


Echidna's Kin

by heavybreathingcat, ninaunn



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Chimera AU, Chimeras, Devil's Nest, Dublith, F/F, F/M, Fifth Laboratory, Origin Story, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4184694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavybreathingcat/pseuds/heavybreathingcat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninaunn/pseuds/ninaunn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'A thing of immortal make, like neither mortal men nor the undying gods but monstrous.'</p><p>In the Fifth Laboratory, the Chimera lay chained. In the Fifth Laboratory, Greed looked for lost memory.</p><p>Hunted by the Military and Homunculi alike, an unlikely alliance is formed. Truth and loyalty must be weighed against freedom, as in the distance, the Promised Day looms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roa

“The fuck is that?”

“No idea," growled the second voice. "Maybe they’re finally getting what’s coming to 'em.”

“If only.”

The sounds of upheaval were getting closer. A high pitched whine echoed through the room; an indication of the anxiousness of the dog Chimera in the opposite cell. For himself, Roa didn't need their keen hearing to know that something big was coming their way. Whether it was a rogue test subject, or infighting amongst their captors, Roa didn’t know.

Occasionally dust sprinkled down from the movement in the walls. The ex-soldier frowned; it couldn’t be an escaped Chimera. Whatever was causing the fuss felt like it had enough strength to bring down the walls.

An explosion rocked the building, closer this time, and he felt the force of it in his bones. Roa’s back ached as he pulled himself up. Whatever chaos was coming, it was bound to be messy. Twisting his torso with raised arms, the old soldier began to crack and stretch every part of his body. Hell, who knew if trying to escape was even in the cards.

Still, he thought to himself, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared

And if the opportunity rose to exact revenge on the white coats? Well, it was something to consider.

The doors rattled as another blast came, this time it physically moved the doors to the hallway.

In the cell opposite, Rakia twitched, dark eyes sharp on the doors.

“Military's coming!” she snarled. Roa nodded and stood back from the gate of his cell.

A moment later and he might have lost his sideburns. The hallway door blew inwards. Rakia’s nose had smelt true; a military squad swarmed into the room. In desperate formation, they scouted, crouched and turned; guns focused on whatever  
it was that followed.

“Aim for the red markings!” The sergeant bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. Roa hoped they didn’t plan on using any heavy weaponry; his cell was the first on the right. Whatever they were to be firing on, Roa didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. Clearly the Chimera were no threat compared to what pursued them. That was unsettling.

He could hear the slow sound of approaching footsteps. They sounded bipedal; definitely human then. Well, with the appearance of. Despite his curiosity, Roa’s better judgement kept his back well pressed against the far wall of his cell.

“Take him down!” roared the sergeant.

A cacophony of bullets fired violently down the hall. Roa yelled at the others to cover their ears. He’d been in too many battles not to. Tinnitus did nobody any favours.

All at once the squad ceased firing. Roa looked up from under his arms; the men hadn’t even emptied their clips. Lowering his hands, he tried to glimpse at their intended target.

A feverish laugh burst into the hallway as a tall man, dressed in black, stepped over the threshold.

“Brilliant show men! You almost, almost stopped me.” White teeth flashed in the dark room as the stranger raised his clawed hands in an exaggerated sweep.

“I think one of you may have bruised me,” he applauded, making a show of checking his metallic body. “No wait, you didn't. My bad.”

The tall man burst out laughing again as if he couldn’t contain his own wit.  
It was the oddest armour Roa had ever seen. Was is some kind of new model? 

What the hell had those white coats been up too?

The sergeant wasted no time in responding.

“Fire!” he ordered, eyes wide, and again the air was filled with flying metal.

Shrapnel flew everywhere. Most of it missed Roa, but a few pieces cut his arms. The poor bastards across from him cursed and hissed; they weren’t so lucky.

Bullets pinged harmlessly off the strange armour as the new-comer stalked forward. He was well built; probably ex-military, but too young to be anyone Roa would’ve fought with.

“I’ll make it easy for you!” The armoured man whooped as he lifted his arms out to make himself a larger target.

Despite the continued spray of bullets, nothing drew blood. Either this man was insane or completely invincible.

“I’m out sir!”

“Me too!”

One by one the squad foolishly announced their ammo status. Idiots.

Their target roared with laughter. “Well I guess my reception is over.”

“Not a chance, you monster!” The sergeant bellowed back.

Leaping forward, the sergeant sprinted down the hall with his sword drawn and ready. The metal-cloaked man waited for his attacker with an almost nonchalant expression. Feinting to the side, the soldier swept out his blade for an upward cut.  
It met nothing but air. Wide eyed, Roa watched as a clawed, metallic hand tore through the Sergeant’s chest. The metal arm collided with Roa’s cell gate; the gore went further.

The Sergeant attempted to breathe, but only managed a few blood-choked gurgles. With a casual motion, the armoured man shook off the sergeant's body like an after-thought. Blood spilled into Roa’s cell, but he didn’t step back; his legs wouldn’t move.

“Anyone else want to play hero?”

The surviving squad members were silent; they had no exit and no back up. Like true military dogs; their faces remained resilient. However, none appeared eager to challenge their target.

“Good,” sighed the armoured man as he straightened, brushing entrails off his arm as if he were straightening out a dinner jacket. It made Roa shiver.

Seemingly satisfied that his arm was clean, the armoured man turned his attention back to the squad.

“You there,” he barked. “Go and release these Chimeras”

Amidst his apprehension, Roa felt a small curl of hope.

“What?” Spluttered one of the braver squad members. “What? No!”

The armoured man’s face distorted into an ugly sneer. It was obvious he booked no defiance.

“Hey!” Rakia, loud mouth that she was, rattled at her bars to get attention. Her dogs shuffled uneasily behind their alpha. “How do you know we’re Chimera?”

The new-comer didn’t even turn.

“You reek of animal shit,” he countered, before thumping a fist against her cell door.

“I didn’t know they let the deaf into the military, did you not hear me?” Some of the soldiers flinched at his tone. “Release these fucking animals!”

For over a year Roa had been imprisoned in this dank cell, and never had he thought someone would demand his release. The old ex-soldier’s eyes were transfixed on the remaining squad. The sour stink of fear rolled off them. The bright eyes of Rakia and her dogs noticed every tremble.

Would they do it, Roa wondered, or would they rather end up like their sergeant and die with their soldier’s pride intact? As much good as it had done for him. Roa snorted, already the stink of piss, shit and blood rose from the sergeant’s corpse.  
Ah the glory of the military, Roa thought bitterly. By the looks of things, the soldiers were thinking the same.

The armoured man seethed at their hesitance; his patience was wearing thin.

“I can’t!” cried one. “They’ll tear us apart!”

“Look mate,” the new-comer said glibly. “Either I reach reach inside your chest and rip out your heart-”

Every man’s face paled as the monster wiggled his clawed fingers.

“Or,” the armoured man continued, before slapping a hand to his face and starting to chuckle. “Hang on, I promise this option is not as bad as the first...”

Every soul in the room was pin-pointed on him and his tirade.

“Or! You can take your chances at the mercy of these Chimera! Your choice!”

There was a tense moment where no-one moved. Roa’s fists were clenched tight. They wouldn't, couldn't, it was madness either way.

Slowly, one pale, trembling soldier stepped forward.

“What are you doing,” hissed his fellow.

The other man made no reply, already moving to the control panel at end of the hall. The beep of a few buttons and a card swipe later, and the lights on the cell gates faded.

Roa’s gaze jerked to his gate. The soft, constant hum of the magnetic lock fell silent. He almost didn’t believe it.

The old soldier stepped towards his gate and gave it a light nudge; it eased open. His fellow Chimera had no such compunctions, bursting out with victorious yelping. Roa paused; he had no desire to remain, but he’d signed a deal with the devil once before. What would be the cost of this liberation?

Meanwhile, violence reigned. It took the prisoners little time to decimate the soldiers, with Rakia at the forefront. The air was filled with screeching animals and torn flesh. The squad had superior numbers and training, but little could stand against the accumulative rage and strength of the Chimera.

The panicked screams of the soldiers died quickly. One fell into his line of sight, a gaping hole where his chest had been. Roa could barely look at the triumphant Chimera that stood above the corpse.

“Not going to join in old man?”

Roa looked up to see the armoured man watching him with narrow, violet eyes.

“Ha!” barked the ex-soldier. “This old man needs to keep his strength if he has any intention of surviving this place.”

His jocular tone belied his reservation. If they truly were to escape, mindless violence would be more of a hindrance than a help. Roa had no illusions about the likelihood of any of them making it outside.

The man that had freed them said nothing.

With an effortless motion, Rakia silenced the last living soldier. The lifeless body crumpled, neck bent in a cruel angle. She looked down on her conquered victim and spat on his disfigured face. She avoided Roa’s grim stare by wiping the blood off her face with the back of her hand.

Their bloodlust seemingly sated, she and the other Chimera turned their attention to their ‘rescuer’.

He grinned toothily.

“Let me break this down nice and simple; you can either remain in here as lab rats or you can come with me and bring hell to those above us.” He gestured towards them.

“Your choice.”

In Roa’s mind, he knew that he wanted out. The fourteen months he’d been here had felt like years. His knuckles whitened; Roa wanted to see the sun again, eat some real damn food. Find his wife. He’d lost too much to the military and to this cursed place.

From the looks of things, his fellow Chimera felt the same. Hell, those damn dogs looked hungry with hope.

“I’m only asking once!”

Hesitant eyes turned toward the stocky woman at the fore of the pack. With a bold look at their rescuer, Rakia gave a single nod.

For himself, Roa pushed his gate the rest of the way open and took his first unescorted steps outside the cell in over a year. He might have kicked the sergeant’s body on the way out. Inadvertently.

“I’m in,” he said gruffly.

“Good. Though I shouldn’t be surprised that dogs follow the alpha.” Someone growled at that, not that the stranger noticed. With a lazy appraisal at his new compatriots, the armoured man glanced his way. “And what did they combine you with?”

Rao straightened and squared his shoulders.

“An ox.”

Their rescuer waved him off.

“That strength of yours will be handy, but I’m not going to bother asking you your name until you’ve lasted a few floors.”

Roa grunted in response.

The armoured man just laughed and turned to make his way back through the shattered remains of the doorway.

“Dogs, scrounge what weapons you can from those meat-bags,” Rakia barked, already bearing a knife. She still hadn’t looked at him.

Roa took the sabre from the dead sergeant for himself, watching as the Chimera moved to follow the rescuer.

He got two steps and paused.

Roa couldn’t deny that his heart beat faster with barely formed hope. Maybe it was the bovine in him; slow to get started and steady, but no matter how he looked at the chances of success were slim.

Still, he was a man. Or at least, part man. If he trundled on behind the steel-skinned stranger without a word, he wouldn’t even be that.

“Old man?”

It was Rakia, damn it, and she was clever enough to spot the uneasiness in his  
expression.

“What, you want to stay here?” Her voice held no concern, just a challenge.  
Roa met her stony glare with one of his own.

“We ain’t done here yet,” he told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 25/06/15 by ninaunn. Just fixing up the flow of the action ;P


	2. Greed

A baritone voice protested again behind him. Greed wanted to rip his tongue out.

“I said we can’t go yet!”

The bulky hulk of an ox-man sure could holler when he wanted. Greed had to admit, he hadn’t expected that a Chimera of something so placid would give him much trouble.

It irked him.

Around them, the dogs had halted; the alpha bitch stood scowling with arms crossed. Apparently both she and the ox apparently had cold feet.

“I’m sorry,” Greed spat over his shoulder, true venom in his voice. “Did you have a prior commitment to attend to?”

The ox’s eyes were veiled as he shared a glance with the bitch. Neither deigned to reply. The corner of Greed’s mouth twitched down in displeasure.

“Then lets move it!”

He tried to stare down the old Chimera. Damn it, didn’t the old bastard know he was now Greed’s lacky? That he was now wasting valuable time in this rotten hell hole that they’d been imprisoned in for fuck knew how long?

But the ox had a measured look about him that wasn’t shifting any time soon.

“We’re not done here,” the ox repeated.

That made Greed stop. Was the old bastard bent on revenge after all? He hadn’t seemed like the sort. Maybe he’d read the Chimera wrong; it had been a long time since he’d bothered with people.

Something raw flared in his chest, and he flexed his fingers with frustration. It had been a long time, but Greed bit down on it.

Slowly, the homunculus eased around to fully face the ox man, every movement tense and deliberate.

Somewhere, a dog whimpered. The ox didn’t so much as flinch. Neither did the bitch.

“You have an appointment or something?” Greed taunted. “You haven’t been out of that cage for all of thirty seconds, and now you’re trying to run the show? I don’t think you realise the position you are in.”

Something like uncertainty flickered in the ox man’s eyes, and cruel satisfaction flooded Greed’s gut. It looked like he had to spell everything out to these morons, least they got the impression that anyone aside from him was in charge.

He owned them, after all.

Sweeping an arm around at the pathetic rabble surrounding him, the homunculus bared his teeth.

“You work for me now and I’ve made it clear we need to move.” There was an edge to his voice that was sharp and grating with scorn. The dogs stank of fear, and it made Greed’s warped smile stretch wider. “I don’t plan on spending any more time in this suffocating piss hole.”

Uneasy assent rippled through the crowd, and Greed was gratified by their uncertainty. His pleasure dipped when the ox glared back.

“There are kids here,” Roa said evenly. The bitch spat on the ground. A collective sigh seemed to shudder around him, and it tasted like shame and pity and hate.

“Hah!” How ridiculous. How fucking, god damn pathetic.

Greed held up one hand, five of his lanky fingers outstretched before slowly, one by one, he curled them into a fist.

“That?” He made his tone cold and callous. “That is how many fucks I give.”

The line of the ox man’s shoulders fell. For the first time, a hollowness haunted the Chimera’s features. Greed smirked to himself; it was gratifying to know the he could still find where to shove the knife.

These losers had to learn, after all. Greed was the one in charge.

“Those kids,” the ox man started, and Greed almost stabbed him out of fury. 

“They’re...special. Valuable, even.”

The woman scowled in disgust.

Greed’s eyes widened, but the homunculus could not fathom how much of an arsehole the old bastard had to be to have decided to keep on talking.

Well he had balls, some part of Greed admitted.

“Seems like you broke in here with a bone to pick,” the old Chimera continued, determined to say his piece. “Stealing those kids would royally piss those white-coats off. S’all I’m saying.”

“Give it a rest,” Greed cut him off sharply. He had heard enough. A whiny bunch of brats stuck in a place like this? It was laughable.

“Ox, you’ve truly touched my heart. Those poor children.” Every word Greed dripped with derision. The wounded look in the ox’s eyes deepened. His companion looked away.

How Greed loved the weight of fear and expectation that settled on his shoulders. The old git wouldn’t defy him out right, as much as the ox man wanted too. This ragtag pack of Chimera’s were completely under his command. As it ought to be!

The laugh that erupted from Greed’s throat was long and jagged and met with silence.

“Come on then,” the homunculus jeered, eyeballing the ox man to see him flinch. 

“Let’s all risk our lives to save some kids who have no value to us.”

Greed assessed his audience, and threw an arm in the air to indicate they were departing.

No one moved. They didn’t seem to have the heart. He was being cruel, Greed knew, but it was all too delicious calling the shots again.

“Well?” he asked, gesturing impatiently to the current pain in his arse. “Those snot-nosed brats aren’t going to rescue themselves!”

An odd sensation warmed his insides as comprehension crept over the old man’s face. Much better than that pathetic look of defeat. The bitch looked stone cold shocked, which delighted him.

“Yes, sir,” the ox replied with a salute. How sweet.

“Don’t delude yourself, Roa,” scoffed the alpha bitch, punching the ox man in one thick shoulder. “You don’t have the nose for this job.”

She eyed Greed warily, before closing her eyes to loudly snuffle at the air.

“This way, boss.”

Darn it, if that didn’t give Greed the shivers. It was good to be called that again.

Greed put the bitch on point, and she leapt ahead like she was on the hunt. Roa stayed at his six like a mountain of muscle.

Another round of soldiers would find them soon, Greed was certain. If there was one thing the Fifth Laboratory wasn’t short on, it was gung-ho soldiers, filthy experiments, and crazy scientists.

However, Greed considered, it wasn’t like he was short on crazy either. He’d have to be to break in here, and the Chimera he’d just liberated? They’d fallen into a blood rage fast enough that Greed wasn’t too concerned about the soldiers. That was reserved for if any of his siblings decided to show up. Especially that little shit, Pride.

Still, Greed knew he held one advantage over his siblings; he damn well knew when to tuck his tail and run.

“Oi Alpha, where to now?”

“Somewhere down the next corridor on the left,” the woman in front of him growled.

They turned a left. At the end of the hall, two scientist stood with clenched fists and eyes pulled back in horror. Greed sprang forth with a speed even a dog couldn’t match. Behind him, the pack started to howl.

Both of the craven bastards turned tail and fled for the door at the end of the hall. They didn’t quite make it; the automated door wasn’t quick enough. Greed slammed into it, one steel arm thrust through to stop the door from closing.

“Not so fast,” Greed hissed as he latched onto what felt like a man’s head. 

The scientist in question let out a shriek of terror.

“Now, now,” reassured Greed, in what was not an especially comforting tone. “No need for that.”

The pressure from the automated door grated against his arm. Although his Ultimate Shield was invincible, it was still uncomfortable.

“Key-card, now, or I’ll crush your skull,” the homunculus said through gritted teeth.  
“I don’t have it!” wailed the scientist as Greed flexed his fingers. “Th-the other guy! he’s got-”

“Liar!” Greed bellowed. He crushed the man's skull and ripped the sliding door off its hinges in one brutal movement. Lying was a coward’s game, and one Greed didn’t tolerate. Stepping away from the ruined door, he squatted down and groped around in the scientist pockets.

They were empty.

“Oops.”

Greed drew himself up and sighed; the other scientist had fled into the dark depths of the room...

“This is it, Boss,” the Chimera bitch said as she and the others approached.

“Finish off that bastard. I’ll do the rest.”

She nodded, and darted off after the scientist. Greed tapped his foot as he studied the dimply lit room.

Large windows lined the walls, though only three held any light in them. He felt Roa shudder as he came up beside him.

“Were these all full?” the ox man whispered. The homunculus had no answer for him.

Mouth in a tight line, Greed stalked toward the closest lit window. It was thick glass, he noted, leaning forward to inspect what was on the other side.

She was older than he imagined. When the old ox had said kids, Greed had supposed kid kids, with snotty noses and chubby hands. This one looked to be sixteen, tall and lanky as she was. Her shoulders were slumped, elbows on knees as she studied a wall with a blank stare from her thin cot. To the right was a small bookshelf, its contents scattered on the floor.

“Hey!” he snapped. When she didn’t respond, Greed eyed the window before roughly pressing at a button next to a small speaker. It clicked, but did nothing. The lights beside it were dead.

“Tch.” He must of damaged some of the laboratory's wiring with his earlier display of chaos.

Growling, Greed slammed his bloody palm against the glass to get the blond girl’s attention. With any luck, it would be a one-way glass, else the girl was in for a fright when she saw the bloody print he’d just left.

Her head jerked up, and she pressed one pale hand against the wall. With a confused pout, the girl looked quizzically in his direction. That her eyes didn’t focus on him or the handprint told Greed it was, indeed, one-way.

“Dirty perverts,” he muttered, all the while thinking. She’d heard his strike, but not his voice; had she picked up something else other than sound?

He ran his blood free hand through his dark hair and contemplated his options. The quickest option would be to call on his Ultimate Shield to shatter the windows. The safer option would be to find the key-cards to the cell doors and escort the girl and any others out.

Greed did the former.

With all the force he could muster, Greed drove his metallic arm through the thick glass. It broke magnificently.

With a broken scream, the girl sprung to her feet and flung her arms up defensively, book in hand. Greed opened his fist and wiggled his fingers. Glass tickled as it hit the floor. He grinned.

“Hey there.”

“Wh-what the hell?”

Slowly, the Homunculus withdrew his metal arm from the hole he had made. Leaning down, he peered in and smiled.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you too, Miss.”

Her mouth hung open and her green eyes locked onto him. A moment later a sound escaped her hanging mouth. It was the kind of wiry shriek that only a teenager could make. She also threw the book at him.

“Hey! Heeeyyy,” Greed called back indignantly through the hole. “Damn it, I won’t hurt you!”

With short, sharp breaths, the girl started and froze again. She looked lost, about a shade away from panic. Greed tapped his fingers against the cracked glass, and saw her shiver.

He got straight to the point

“We don’t have much time,” he said, trying to catch her eye. “You want out of there?”

The nod was small, but sure. Thank fuck.

“Well, this is going to take a bit more work than I intended.” Greed tried to make his next words sound less of a command and more of a polite request. “So, don’t move and don’t make a sound.” He received another nod.

Clenching his fist again, he drove his armoured arm through the glass. Piece by piece, it broke under the blunt force until there was enough room for the girl to get out without being sliced open.

Greed lent in, one knee up, so that he could reach through the window’s remains.

“Come on, I’ll help you out.”

Reaching out with the arm that wasn’t stained with brain matter, he offered an open palm to the girl. At the sight of his claws, the blonde haired girl stepped back, eyes narrowed.

“Oh yeah, this. It’s nothing.” He smiled softly.

With a little shudder, Greed pulled back the Ultimate Shield from his skin.

“See? Back to normal,” Greed reassured her. Part of him wanted to cackle; when had he ever been this gentle?

It must of seemed genuine; her first few steps were hesitant, but the girl didn’t falter as she tip toed over fragmented glass. He was glad she came willingly. Greed detested the idea of having to manhandle such a slip of a girl.

Pale fingers slipped into his palm, and with one swift pull he hauled her up and over the broken window edge. Her face held a tight little smile as her feet touched down.

“Who else is here?” he asked when she looked back up.

“The twins,” she replied, pulling Greed over to where the other Chimera huddled around the two other occupied cells.

“Hendricks is there.” She jerked a thumb to the right. Pivoting on the spot she pointed to the window on the left. “Over here is Dolcetto. You have to get them out too!”

Bold little thing, when it came to her friends.

“Right,” Greed replied, as if he knew exactly who she was talking about.

Roa met his gaze from over the girl’s shoulder.

“How’re we going to do this?”

“I thought I’d see what you could do, old man,” Greed said glibly, raising his brows before turning to the window behind him. He heard Roa huff and move away.

When he turned, the blond was already pressed up against the glass, rapping on it with her knuckles. On the other side, a scrawny kid with an ugly scar lent toward her.

“Is this Hendricks ready?”

The girl inclined her head. Both flinched as a deep bellow sounded with the harsh shifting of flesh and bone. Glancing over his shoulder, Greed watched Roa’s massive form bulk and grow.

Another guttural yell, and the ox man charged head first into the thick glass.  
Satisfied, Greed returned to the job at hand. Both brats had fallen still.

“Guess it’s my turn,” Greed smiled as he cracked his knuckles.

“It’s certainly taken you long enough,” came a tinny voice from the working microphone. The kid’s expression was unimpressed.

“Hendricks!” admonished the blonde girl, but she was smiling. Her friend replied with two knocks on the glass.

“Smart arse,” Greed muttered, before rolling his shoulder. What ever the kid was mixed with must have granted them with keen hearing. “Stand back.”

With a shake, he pulled the hard plates of his Ultimate Shield back over his arm.

“Both of you,” Greed followed up after he noticed the blonde girl hadn’t moved.  
Hendricks had retreated to the cot, watching him with bright eyes.

The Homunculus made short work of the window. This time he used both arms; discarding shattered chunks of glass to the side of him. There was no pussy footing around with shock, either; he had no time to worry about the kid’s feelings.

Greed only felt slightly like a shit-head for the thought.

“You couldn’t find a keycard to get us out?” The whisky coloured gaze belied the excitement her tone did not reveal.

“yeah, something like that.” Greed shrugged. Straightening, he shook off his metal skin and made to reach in to help the kid out.

Hendricks gave him no such chance. Nimble as a deer, the scarred kid took one step and neatly bounded through the window.

“Show off,” Greed sneered, but without any real feeling.

The blond had seized Hendricks hands in a vice like grip, and the two were staring intently at each other. Tilting his head, Greed studied them. As scrawny as she was, Hendricks did indeed appear to be a girl. Her friend practically towered over her.

“Martel.”

“Hendricks,” the girls voice was slightly softened with relief.

“Dolcetto?” the shorter girl asked, mouth a straight line.

Both turned to him in unison, and Greed suppressed the unsettling reaction it provoked. It was the damn eyes, Greed concluded. Martel’s were green and sharp; Hendricks though, were divided by long, horizontal pupils.

Weird.

Still, the feeling remained, and he itched to get going.

“Don’t sweat it,” Greed answered with unconcerned swagger. “My ox will have him out in no time.”

Right on time, he heard the crash of glass as Roa knocked more loose on his way out. A small figure was cradled in his hairy arms.

“Dolcetto!” Hendricks cried, darting forward with a surprising burst of speed. Greed rolled his eyes at the dramatics. Martel stood still beside them, watching as Roa knelt down to grant Hendricks access to her brother.

The ox-man looked to meet Greed’s gaze, and the Homunculus sighed as he stalked over. At some point, alpha Chimera had returned, blood painting her arms and chest. She hovered over Roa, whose brow furrowed in worry as the boy whimpered. Greed grimaced.

“What did they do?” With trembling fingers, Hendricks reached for her brother’s face. “Dolcetto! Wake up!”

“I’m not sure what those white-coat’s have done to him,” Roa rumbled. “He seems to be in a lot of pain.”

“Bastards,” the bitch muttered, teeth bared. “They’ve messed the pup up pretty bad.”

“We can’t help him here,” Greed told them flatly. Something was prickling at his spine; they’d spent too much time on this rescue as it was. “Carry the kid, or ditch him. Up to you, but we’re leaving now.

Beside him, Martel inhaled sharply. The scarred girl shot him a glare, full of fury, before smoothing it to a blank expression.

“He weighs next to nothing,” the old man answered, resting a gentle hand on the boys forehead.

“Alright then, shit-sticks,” Greed barked. What a ridiculous bunch of soft-hearted sops. He couldn’t believe he’d wasted so much time on them. It was pathetic how quickly the Chimera stood to attention at his command. “Move your arses if you don’t want to be left behind!”

Roa had pulled himself up, and the two girls had reached for each other again, Greed eyed them sternly.

“You two punks, keep up. You fall behind, you stay behind, got it?”

They both glared, though it was probably more fear than anger. Stupid brats, why he’d come for them in the first place, Greed couldn’t remember.

Something pushed against him, against his souls, and Greed felt his mouth go dry and his claws flex. The Chimera felt it too; every single one of the mongrels had bristled. Some were even growling.

It had been a long time since Greed had felt this presence. It was a fuck-ton too soon to be feeling it again, in his opinion.

"Fuck."

“So cold,” came the sultry voice from the shadows. “You never were this harsh to your play-things before. Especially in the face of such sibling concern!”

That bitch. Double fuck.

Lust slunk her way through their intended exit, dark and cruel even as she sighed wistfully.

“I shouldn’t be surprised.” That red mouth curved into a sharp smile. “You always have been cruel toward me. Hm, brother?”


	3. Greed

Over a century had passed since he’d the privilege of eyeing Lust’s curvaceous form. Few of those crawling humans could match it.

Although, Greed considered, it disappointing that she still wore the same dreary, old outfit. Dark hair, dark dress, dark boots; very original. 

“My, my,” Lust purred, her eyes trailing along the glass and blood scattered on the floor. “You sure have made a mess down here.”

Greed didn’t have the patience to waste with her games.

“This fucking detour took too long, Ox!” roared Greed. Something raw tinged the edge of his voice. He hoped Lust hadn’t noticed. “Find another exit.”

None of them moved. 

Fools. Greed gritted his teeth; if they stayed here they’d all die. 

“Go!” Greed reeled round and snapped. 

The alpha turned to her pack. 

“You heard him! Scout the area for another exit.” The dogs bolted off. The alpha, done with the order, took several long strides and came up to his right. 

“Greed,” sighed Lust, hip cocked to one side. “What on earth enticed you to come here tonight?” 

She made a lazy gesture towards the alpha. “And to have this filthy animal barking orders for yo-” 

An ugly, beastile growl came from beside him. 

“None of your damn business, you filthy cunt" Greed cut her off. 

"So rude.” A sharp edge came into her voice.

Greed turned his nose up at her and snickered. 

“Woman, you rile up so easy.” 

With a casual flick, Lust’s hair was tossed away from her face, as if to batter away his pointed words.

“I don’t usually like to be so quick about things,” the woman hummed. “As I see it, Greed, you have two options.” 

With a slow, swinging gait, she approached him

“You can return back to Father willingly,” her dark violet eyes drank in his every move. “Or, I put you down like a dog. Again.”

“Never!” Greed snarled in defiance, and Lust’s fingers twitched. Feet shuffled behind him, and then came a whimper; he’d had forgotten about the darn kids. 

Those dogs better find an exit quick, Greed seethed. He didn’t like the idea of baby chimera chow.

Widening his stance, Greed thrust his hands outwards. As his armoured plates shafted back up his arms, he curled his hands into bear-like claws.

He bared his sharp teeth. 

“I seem to remember messing up that whorish face of yours several times before being put in that cell!”

Something like displeasure curled into Lust’s smile. Her posture lowered; preparing for an attack.

“Don’t remember?” Greed dove forward, both arms sharp and ready. “How about I refresh your memory!”

In a flash, he was in front, driving his arm up under Lust’s chin and through her jaw. Her dark eyes widened, and a dark, guttural sound emerged from the wreck of her throat.

Crimson sparks flew as her lower face regenerated. Greed pivoted to the side and slammed a front kick to her abdomen. Bone cracked under his foot, and he laughed before following it with another brutal punch.

“What the hell?” The Alpha barked behind him. “She can regenerate?” 

It was enough to distract him, and Lust seized the moment to thrust her heeled boot into his temple. 

His vision spun. Damn his vanity; he hadn’t covered his head. 

The ground hit his nose hard, and from bruised eyes he saw the shiny points of her boots. A breathy laugh sounded.

“I’m sorry, Greed,” Lust said, flicking her palm open. Slowly, dark fingers extended into her Ultimate Spears. “I’m going to need you to hold still.” 

He threw himself clumsily to the left; a few decades and he’d gotten rusty. Greed’s eyes caught sight of four thin spears as they dived down into the ground where his head had been moments before. The fifth caught the side of his cheek. 

If he wasn't back on his feet, he would lose his head. Greed ripped his face away from the embedded spear; tearing his cheek off with it. He rolled forward onto his feet before another set of razor fingers could find him. 

Blood welled in his mouth, even as it regrew. Damn, he’d forgotten how much it hurt to lose a jaw.

“Stay back, you mongerols,” Greed shouted back at the Alpha, poised to leap into the battle. Red spittal flew from his torn mouth with every word.

He grimaced; time to cover up entirely if he wanted to keep his life. Metal plates crawled their way over his neck, up the back of his scalp, and over his face. Lust looked on with a bored expression.

What an interesting paradox, Greed thought with glee. An Ultimate Spear, that could penetrate any substance, versus an impenetrable Ultimate Shield. 

Somewhere behind him, he sensed movement, and Greed almost snarled at the stupidity of the damn dog.

“Unless you think you can fight a homunculus, I suggest you tuck your fucking tail and run!” He warned the Chimera. 

So much for his original plan; running seemed less ideal than leaving lambs to the slaughter. All he could hope for was to buy those bratty kids some extra time. 

A wide smirk crawled across his face. He knew how to keep Lust entertained. She was a vain, self important creature, after all.

“Let see what you can do,” he taunted. “If you think you can handle it, that is.” 

Lust barely battered an eye.

“Here’s a funny story,” she began conversationally, idly kicking the white-coated corpse at her feet. “A selfish homunculus defies his father.”

Cracking his neck, Greed brought himself to his full height. If those damn Chimera didn’t have an exit soon, he’d leave them all behind. 

“As a consequence, he is locked away in a cell for seventy, long years,” Lust continued with narrowed eyes. 

He remembered the poisoned shackles. The constant, maddening buzz of the mercury and so, so much time staring at nothing. The damage to his memories was permanent. He would never allow himself to be returned to that silent dark cell. 

Face livid, Greed stormed forward in a rage; he wanted to rip apart that gleeful bitch’s face.

She laughed. She fucking laughed.

“When he gets out, he mopes around like a child, crying out over his lost -”

Lust paused, biting her tongue as if she’d said too much. He hated it; her sly smile and dainty sneer. The bitch was toying with him, as if Greed were some kind of mindless, raging thug.

Lust had always had such a high opinion of herself. What he wouldn’t give to wipe that plush, knowing smile off her smug face. 

He tried to breathe, tried to clear his mind. Greed was not so petty as a human. Not so prone to repeating stupid mistakes. He considered the nagging insistence in his gut to return here for answers. Not prone to repeating mistakes most of the time, then.

Greed drew in a deep breath. Lust was expecting him to charge forward, so he decided to do the opposite. 

Snatching up a discarded clipboard from the floor, Greed forcefully threw it at her hateful face.

It was so absolutely ridiculous it worked.

Lust sliced the board in half; paper fragments drifted in the air and it brought Greed a moment.

He darted in front of her. Dark claws sank into Lust’s chest and ripped out bone. Greed let out an unholy cackle as she screeched in agony, spear-like claws scrabbling his shoulders to try to throw him off. 

“Stop moving!” He hissed, digging his hands in further. If he could get to her stone, he could crush it and finally finish the bitch. 

“We have an exit,” hollered the Alpha.

Some old instinct made him turn to track the Chimera’s passage, but it was too soon. Lust got her grip and tore at his shoulder, wrenching him back to face her enraged face before she violently tossed him away. 

Greed’s vision burst to white as he hit the slick floor. Neck bent at a crude angle, all he could manage was a winded gasp of air.

Someone was yelling, but his mind couldn't lock onto the words. One of the little Chimera? Blurred figures were moving, and the screaming intensified and then they were gone.


	4. Martel

They were at least a floor above where they had so recently been imprisoned. Hopefully more. Martel’s legs ached and her chest felt heavy. She wasn’t sure how far she had run, however she knew she couldn’t stop, had to keep up with the pack.

Ahead, the dogs ran point, sniffing out fresh air to guide them to the surface. 

“Goddamnit, it’s locked!”

From her weary haze, Martel looked up. The Chimera milled about another heavy reinforced door that blocked their path. Something hurt in her chest at the sight.

“Get it open!” barked Rakia, the alpha.

Staggering, Martel made her way to the front of the pack. Palms flat on the door and cheek pressed against it, she tried to feel the vibrations around the mechanisms.

“Feel anything?” Hendricks asked, popping out of nowhere. Martel frowned and shook her head. The door felt the same as the ones in their cell; heavy, immovable, with a slight thrum of electrics.

“Nothing that helps,” she answered quietly. 

Hendricks merely nodded, and glanced back to where her brother was held. About them, the pack scouted for a way out, for a scientist, security, anything that meant getting away from what lay behind them.

An inhuman wail echoed from the lower levels, leaving Martel cold with horror. The other Chimera had paused at the sound. Beside her, Hendricks stared blankly at the floor.

“Get a move on, you curs!”

“Are...are we going to go back and help?” Martel whispered, voice sounded so small against the alpha’s barking orders. 

Hendricks’ lips thinned.

“Do you feel like dying today?” Hendricks replied dispassionately. “I don’t, and I bet Dolcetto doesn’t want to either.”

Martel looked away from her friend, leaning her forehead against the cold surface of the door. She grimaced at the the thought of the strange man who had burst into her cell. With his cocky grin and weird armour, he’d been so sure of himself. So certain that he was in control.

Another underground explosion sounded, and they all flinched. Martel hoped their rescuer had the upper hand against the thing that had found them. Hoped.

“How’s my brother?” she heard Hendricks ask, as the heavy footsteps of the ox man approached.

“He’s hanging in there,” came the rumbling reply. “Seems fretful though.”

Martel glanced over her shoulder, watching as her tiny friend reached up to touch Dolcetto’s pale face. Somewhere along the way the ox man had made a sling out of blood splattered scientist coats. The dog-boy whimpered in his sleep, and flinched.

“Don’t worry, Cetto,” Hendricks murmured, voice surprisingly soft. “I won’t let us die here.”

The ox man grunted, but said nothing.

“I wonder if he made it,” Martel murmured to herself, desperately trying not to think of the way the woman’s spears tore so easily through flesh.

A yelp came from down the hall; someone had found a way through. The Chimera bounded back to their position and conferred with their leader.

“Ok, listen up!” Rakia hollered, waving the Chimera in close. “We’ve found the security room for this level, and that little runt, Danzka, is going to short-circuit this door open for us!” 

There were a few cheerful whoops, and Rakia smiled grimly. Martel watched, wide eyed and flexed her fists.

“So, we’ve got a way through. Security’s going to be worse, but nothing we can’t handle,” the alpha told them, hand patting the knife tucked into her belt. Rakia turned, flashing a dark glance at the ox man. “Roa, you’re in charge of the pups.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he answered promptly. 

“And you two, run,” Rakia eyed them all with a steely glare. “Follow Roa and do not stop.”

The Alpha fixed her gaze on Martel. Goosebumps ran down the girl’s spine as she hesitated. 

“I won’t have anyone from my pack dying because you want to play hero,” her voice was cold and firm. Martel bit her lip, lowered her head and nodded.

Something hissed, and the door groaned as it began to ease open.

Martel’s heart pounded. How long had it been since she’d been outside? She could barely remember. They were so close. This was it, she knew, their last dash for freedom.

“You kids get behind me,” Roa, the ox man, said. 

Moving next to Hendricks, she bumped her friend with her shoulder.

“Ready?” Martel asked.

“Of course,” Hendricks scoffed, but her eyes were bright.

The door opened to reveal a stairwell. Martel groaned at the thought of running up it. Behind them, the two last dog Chimera caught up to the pack.

“Once we’re out, stay out of sight, and for God’s sake stay away from Central’s soldiers. Head to the Tenderloin,” barked Rakia as she drew her knife. “If we separate we will find each other there.”

Martel lowered her posture into a runner’s stance. A sour taste rose at the back of her throat, and she wondered if it was terror or fatigue.

The door chimed as it fully opened, and the alpha Chimera gave a howl as she leapt forward. It took Martel only a moment to follow. Hendricks was already three paces ahead. Around her, the dog Chimera were yelping and barking like a midnight hunt, so ghoulish with their blood stained clothes. Martel almost pitied any scientist they came across.

Already her legs ached in protest, but she pushed on. She would not be left behind.

Oh, how she wanted to get out, terror and adrenaline pumping her blood aflame.

Reaching the crest of the stairs, they found bodies littering the halls. Gore decorated the walls like a child’s painting. 

“Courtesy of our rescuer, I think,” Hendriks shouted back at her.

Those few soldiers who were sorting through the carnage quickly joined the corpses of their fellows.

“At least we know the way out now!” Martel yelled back, barely restraining a maniacal laugh.

More stairs and more halls, the sprint was endless. The pack didn’t hold back, every white coat that crossed their path fell to a messy end. 

“Hold up!” Rakia howled. The Chimera on point didn’t hear, or was too far gone to respond. He turned sharply before disappearing around the corner. 

Martel froze in terror as the sound of gunpowder exploded down the hall. There was a pause, before the stumbling, bullet-torn form of the Chimera fell back. Blood coated his ragged clothes, seeping from the mess that had been his chest. He gave one bloody cough before collapsing against the far wall. 

“Move out into the hall, with your hands up!” a commanding voice bellowed, bouncing off the walls.

All eyes turned to the Alpha, waiting for her next command. She bowed her head in thought, and Martel’s mouth went dry. Were they stuck? Her fists clenched. Surely Rakia wasn’t considering surrender?

Soft footsteps walked past Martel. Her eyes widened, and she tried to grab Hendricks’ wrist, but the smaller girl shook her off. Words died in her throat as her friend sidled up to Rakia.

“We’re valuable, and they know it,” Hendricks said, voice wavering only slightly. Her gaze was steely, though Martel could not make her friend meet her eye. “Send us out first.”

Something painful caught in Martel’s throat. She didn’t want to die, not when they were so close. Hendricks was clever, that much was true, but Martel choked at the thought of facing so many soldiers and their eager bullets. 

The Alpha’s head snapped up and shot the young Chimera a stern glare. 

“And then what?” Rakia bared her teeth. “Going to take them all on yourself, hmmm?”

Martel’s eyes darted between the two of them. Hendricks was clever, and she trusted the other girl with her life. If she said they wouldn’t shoot…

If it bought the others some time, then hopefully they’d have a chance to flee. Martel scratched at the needle marks on her forearm. It would be worth it, she told herself.

Jaw clenched, Martel stepped up beside her friend.

“She’s right,” agreed the blonde Chimera, trembling as she spoke. “They’ve invested too much research into us.”

The Alpha’s dark eyes bored into her own.

“Last chance, you lab-rats,” a soldier's voice threatened from the hallway. Somewhere, someone whimpered. “We’re coming for you in five.” 

Mouth in a bitter line, Rakia studied the two of them. Time was up and they all knew it.

“I have a better idea,” the Alpha said grimly.

“Rakia,” Roa tried to object.

“We have no time,” snarled Rakia, before turning to her pack. “Danzka, find a way to kill the lights. The rest of you, be ready on my signal.”

The runt bounded off in a hurry as the other Chimera readied their stolen and makeshift weapons.

Flicking a hand-sign to one of the larger dogs, Rakia turned away. A heavy hand fell on Martel’s shoulder, and she stared anxiously at the grim Chimera behind her.

A small yelp sounded, and she glanced away to see the Alpha roughly twist Hendricks’ arm behind her back and drag her to the corner.

“No-” she made to cry when Rakia pulled out the knife, but a hand clamped over her mouth.

The Alpha pressed the knife against her friend's throat and held the girl close as she boldly stalked around the corner.

Martel held her breath. They all did.

No gunshots sounded. Thank god. 

“Don’t shoot,” called out a voice, slick with grease and casual cruelty. “I want the girl unharmed!” 

Every hair on Martel’s body bristled. Around, low, guttural growls sounded from every Chimera. Even Roa looked on edge. Shuddering, Martel closed her eyes and leaned back into the dog that held her. 

She couldn’t go out and face the soldiers, not if the gold-toothed doctor was there. She’d rather die.

A moan slipped out of her throat; Hendricks was already out there and vulnerable. The unscrupulous Head of the Fifth Laboratory had seen her. Who knew what deprived plans he was already cooking up to punish them with?

The dog Chimera holding her squeezed her shoulder.

“Bring the blond girl out,” barked the Alpha. Martel’s knees gave out. Not that it mattered; her captor pressed a bloody, homemade knife to her throat and dragged her away.

Her stomach heaved with the fear, but nothing came out but her sobs.

“Quiet, girl,” her captor muttered, but he eased the pressure on her neck a fraction.

Clumsily, the two of them turned the corner to face the enemy.

Blinking back tears, Martel eyeballed the men clustered in the hallway. The squad wasn’t as large has she had feared; only five men remained standing. Bodies covered with blood soaked sheets lined the corridor. Their living comrades looked haunted, glaring as they looked down the sight of their rifles.

The Alpha stood before them, body curled around Hendricks’ to keep herself shielded. Hate and fear rose in Martel’s chest; would they be sold out, after all? 

Her eyes darted away.

Behind the soldiers, a large gaping hole stood at the end of the hall where a door should have been. Breath short and frantic, Martel gaped at the glimpsed of the moon-lit the gravel and concrete, a concrete wall, and a gate. 

That was it, she realised breathlessly, that was the outside. These men were the last hurdle before freedom. 

It seemed cruel, that they should be so close.

Commotion sounded as the gold-toothed doctor hastily pushed his way to the front of the squad, face split by a wide, cheshire grin. It made Martel’s skin crawl; any time he smiled like that heralded suffering for one of them. 

“Good,” the old man sighed, liver spots twitching with his smile. “What wonderful work you have all done.”

A few soldiers scowled at the doctor. Despite their masks, Martel could feel the fury rolling off them in waves. The gold-toothed doctor waved them away and stepped forward. 

“I’d never imagine any of you would make it this far,” he congratulated.

With a snarl, Rakia pulled Hendricks up, keeping the girl firmly in front.

“You stay back, you sick bastard,” growled Rakia.

The doctor clasped his hands and tilted his head.

“Oh?” he chuckled. “Going to kill the young ones, are we?”

“I saw the empty cells,” Rakia thrust her chin out and sneered. “Not many live ones left, are there?”

Martel studied the dangerous glint in the pack leader’s dark eyes. If she were bluffing, then Martel couldn’t tell. Hendricks hadn’t made a noise, straining back from the jagged knife pressed tightly against her throat.

The Alpha spat at the soldiers.

“Don’t test me,” a nasty grin crawled over the older woman’s face. “Not like you have any spare.”

The wide grin remained fixed on gold-toothed doctor’s face. He seemed decidedly unphased at Rakia’s threats. Pressed up as she was against her captor, Martel felt the frantic beating of his heart. So, she thought grimly, she wasn’t the only one concerned.

“You only have two hostages,” the doctor placidly replied, making a steeple of his fingers. “Do you expect me to trade the lives of your entire pack for just these two children.”

His roving eyes rested fondly on Martel, and the doctor inclined his head as if they were at a dance. She loathed him, with a violence that made her hiss, but tonight her terror was stronger. Her stomach curdled and the urge to retch came again in force and she shook at the thought of returning to his clutches. 

Was this really how it was going to end?

A faint buzz shot along the ceiling, followed by the spitting sound of sparks. The lights flickered, and they were all encased in darkness.

The Alpha howled.

Rough hands threw her to the floor; Martel groaned in pain at the violent impact. Gunfire sounded around them.

“Stay down,” the Chimera holding her snarled, before dashing away. Even with the gold-toothed doctor shrieking, the soldiers did not stop firing wildly.

Sobbing, Martel crawled blindly forward; her eyesight was no better than a human's. Palms flat against the cold floor, she tried to track the movement of the charging pack and the frantic soldiers. There was too much movement and carnage; Martel screamed through her teeth at the jumbled sensory input against her skin.

Hendricks. She had the nocturnal vision of a deer, and the rest of the should be fine navigating the dark. What few soldiers that were left would be annihilated in the chaos.

Had that been the plan?

A heavy grip seized the back of her shirt and hauled Martel to her feet.

“Run,” bellowed the ox, before shifting his grip on Dolcetto and charging away.

“Martel!” The blonde Chimera flailed towards the sound of Hendricks voice.

“Where are you?” she cried, flinching at the gunfire.

“I’m here,” Hendricks called, suddenly by her side. Martel blindly reached out in the darkness and seized her friend’s arm. With her free hand, Hendricks squeezed her shoulder before pulling them forwards.

The two girls stumbled into a run.

“Hurry up!” barked a raw voice. It sounded like Rakia.

Weaving past moving flesh and metal, Martel slipped on the wet floor. Blood and gore painted her front, even as Hendricks dragged her onward. Gunfire rang out and flesh tore, but the young girl kept her eyes fixed on the soft glow beyond the exit. Shadows in combat swept past to block it out, but only for a moment.

“C’mon!” shouted Hendricks when she stumbled again. Sure-footed as a deer, Martel thought dazedly to herself. They almost lost their grip on one another, until their grasping hands found each other’s fingers.

The ox man was just ahead, and Hendricks was at her side. No matter that every muscle burnt like battery acid, no matter that she couldn’t see her surroundings. 

One of the pack bounded forward and onto an oncoming soldier and tore out his throat. They sped past to the ruined doorway and burst out into the open. 

It was only moonlight, cold and frail, but to Martel it felt more real on the skin than anything she could remember. The night air tasted so cool and sweet as she heaved it into her tired lungs.

“Hold him,” she heard Roa thunder. The ox man gently eased Dolcetto into his sister’s care before standing back. Martel darted forward to help Hendricks carry the weight. About them, the pack swarmed, searching for a way out.

Letting out a massive roar, the old soldier threw up his arms as muscle and sinew bulged and grew with his ox mutation. Panting heavily, Roa turned to where the dogs were scrabbling at the wire gate.

With a grunt, he charged. Martel gripped Hendricks’ shoulder as the ox man ploughed straight through.

Somewhere, a siren wailed, and spot lights hastily searched the ground.

“Come on!” Martel looked up in shock as Roa triumphally returned. With one scoop of his massive arm, the ox man relieved Henricks from the debilitating weight of her brother.

Wearily, so wearily, Martel picked herself up off the ground. A victorious howl sang forth from the hell they’d just escaped, and the bloody figure of the Alpha finally emerged.

The pack howled in return, now surging out the damaged gate. There was no more time as the sirens sounded closer.

Roa stormed down the road, with Hendricks and Martle in close pursuit.


	5. Greed

A velvet chuckle echoed around the wreck of a room.

“I know what you are doing,” asserted Lust the Lascivious. “I even admire it, no matter how futile it is.”

Panting, Greed pulled himself to his feet. A ringing seared his ears from their earlier collision. Vaguely, he wondered if those mutated mutts had made it out of this hell-hole. It was possible; the bitch had seemed mean enough, and the ox, strong.

Running a hand over his tender shoulders, the homunculus sneered; his shield was still intact, at least. Satisfaction thrilled through him. To have beaten Lust’s spears was no mean feat.

“What is it about you that keeps collecting such pets?” With a melancholy sigh, Lust tossed her hair over a pale shoulder. “And why do you always feel the need to fight for them?” 

Greed snorted, the sultry woman could sure wax on loquacious when she desired. Stupid, really; now he knew she couldn’t penetrate his Ultimate Shield, he could get right on to the pleasure of killing her.

And if it bought the Chimera some extra time? Well, Greed was fine with that.

“Really, it’s almost tragic the way history repeats itself,” cooed Lust, trailing her fingers over her ouroboros mark.

“God, do you ever shut up?” Dusting off the powdered remains of concrete off his arms, Greed tipped his nose at her. “Maybe if you’d spent more time fighting and less time yammering, you would have actually done some damage!”

Her eyes flashed with a dark promise that made his pulse quicken. Rolling his creaky shoulders, Greed bounced on the balls of his feet. So what if he was a little stiff? He’d slain a Homunculus once before; adding Lust to the list would be a pleasure. 

Bending his knees, Greed returned to a fighting stance.

“Ladies first!” he challenged. Cracking his knuckles, Greed raised his fists.

The faint lines of a sneer crept around her nose, though that was the only sign of Lust’s displeasure. Languidly, she stretched out her gloved arms and flexed her fingers.

With the barest of flicks, her fist darted forward with long, sharp fingers. Greed barely drew breath before those wretched spears were embedded deep into his torso.

He could only blink dumbly at the sight of the Ultimate Spears penetrating his crumbling shield like a knife through butter. 

Greed’s body stiffened as it gave in to shock, and a stream of red poured from his mouth. All five of her spears had pierced his abdomen and chest. He couldn’t even begin to think of the pain.

With cruel satisfaction, Lust wrenched her spears callously out as blood painted the floor. Greed wanted to scream, curse, but all he could manage was a thin gurgle as his legs folded beneath him.

“Would you look at that,” Lust said, inspecting her fingers. “Seems like this paradox can go either way.”

Small shards of glass and concrete dug into Greed’s forehead where it rested on the cool ground. Pain clung to every slow thought at the homunculus tried to comprehend how his shield had failed. 

How, the thought came with gritted teeth. It had been decades since Greed had fought his family, let alone contended with this kind of damage. Now, he was bare as a babe as the shield melted away so that his stone could knit together his broken body. Cold realisation ran down his spine; this was not a battle he could win.

Above the lights flickered. The Chimera must be creating quite the disturbance up above. At least something was going right. With a bloody smile, Greed pushed himself up onto his knees and glanced at Lust. She was, unsurprisingly, unphased.

“Now, are we done? Or must I cripple you once more?” Her expression had returned to cool indifference.

Even though it irked him, Greed knew when he was licked. Time to scarper while he still could.

Something in his expression must have given him away, for Lust tipped her chin up to glare at him through heavy eyelids as she stepped towards him. Already her spears were extending.

“Evidently not,” she sighed.

Greed readied his tongue for another snide remake before the lights finally gave out. Red sparks still sputtered over his wounds despite the darkness, but Greed wasn’t one to waste a golden opportunity in any shape or form. 

Pressing a hand to his torn abdomen, the homunculus staggered to his feet. 

A squeal of torn metal made him flinch; Lust knew how he hated that sound. Shaking his head, Greed limped to where he guessed the exit would be. One of those damn Chimera would be handy, if only to tell him what the fuck Lust was clawing at.

Bumping into a wall, Greed ran a bloody hand against it, hoping to follow the Chimera’s escape route. Wincing, he glanced at the hesitant light of his regeneration; it was happening too slow for his liking.

Somewhere, a back-up generator was making a poor attempt to restore the laboratory's lights. Glancing behind, Greed glimpsed the flickering silhouette of Lust, tearing out the remains of the automated doorway. 

Sparks flew from torn wires, light bouncing off the shattered glass around them. Lust thrust her hand back into the wreckage of the control panel. What was that bitch playing at?

Above, the lights flickered gamely one last time.Greed squinted to make out what was happening, only to see Lust step away from her handiwork as smoke began to pour into the room.

The failing light-bulbs shattered and glass trinkled down. Either the back-up generator had failed or his beloved sibling had managed to short out the electrics for the hallway. Grunting, Greed heaved himself on before pausing once more.

A soft, warm glow lit up Lust’s pale form. Her red lips bright in a crooked smile. About her, an electrical fire had caught on something, sending shadows dancing about the darkened room.

Greed’s hands flexed, trying to wring out the ill feeling rising in his throat. He eyed Lust as she watched him lazily.

Was there-?

The homunculus spun around; trying to identify the source dread crawling along his skin. He thought Lust had come alone; that fat beast, Gluttony, was always slinking around in her shadow. Not that Greed the Avaricious couldn’t take them both down! 

“Hah,” he garbled, the hot throbbing in his belly reminded Greed of his less than spectacular performance this night.

Sweat beaded his forehead; Greed couldn’t sense another attacker, but a nauseating sensation would not let him be. His eyes darted from one corner of the room to another. Lust waited, enjoyed watching his slow descent into panic.

When the flames spluttered and grew, Greed knew he was in trouble. His eyes widened as Lust sauntered towards him.

“Although I am disheartened that Father didn’t think I could handle you, I never turn down a helping hand.” Her voice was rich and smooth, despite the smoke. Greed snarled as the shadows that curled around her deepened.

“Oh, you fucking wench,” he spat. The darkness came alive and swallowed the hall.

Blades of dark matter snapped across the floor. Tiny hands wrenched at Greed’s ankles and he was flung to the ground. The walls were nothing but a black mass, pulsing all around him.

Greed writhed as his limbs were seized and bound.

“Why, you little co-” His vitriol was cut off as Pride slammed him into shattered glass. The little prick had always like to play with his food.

One by one those glinting eyes popped open to eyeball Greed, as sharp teeth cut into his fragmenting skin.

“So kind of Lust to create such a strong source of light for me,” came the eyrie child’s voice. “So nice for you to stick around.”

Lust hummed. Greed was fucked.

\--

HIs whole body jolted as Greed was hurled to the center of a large, deserted room. The breath was knocked completely from the homunculus and his shoulders tore up the concrete.

“Damn you, Pride.” Winded, Greed ground his teeth as he struggled to determine his location.

Twisting so as to look over his shoulder, Greed mustered his best sneer. The little shit had practically torn him apart, and something like that meant that Greed owed him some real damage. 

His arms trembled as he tried to rise, and Greed cursed; he could barely hold himself up, let alone fight one of his siblings. Besides, Pride had already slithered out of reach.

Swallowing hard, Greed tried to ignore the slick, oily sensation that caressed his skin. The air was always so heavy down here. A bitter terror fought in his throat. 

Of course they’d bring him back here.

Somewhere before him, a pale figure rose. Greed blinked to clear his vision, though he knew those features well enough.

That decrepit piece of meat flap, snarled Greed internally. The old man looked frail; years in the darkness had thinned Father’s skin and sunken his eyes. 

As ever, his expression was inscrutable. How Greed loathed him.

“Hey, Pops! So good to see you after all these years,” Greed smiled through his teeth. “And such a welcome home-coming!”

Somewhere behind him, Lust chuckled. Bright crimson sparks danced around Father. Without lifting a finger, raw energy spread out from the old coot’s feet to light up a transmutation circle. 

Gred swore, loudly.

The decaying ground erupted around him, great fingers of rock dove up towards the roof. Greed lurched to his feet, eyes darting in panic. 

Not again. He’d sworn that he’d never allow himself to be trapped here again.

Already the floor had twisted up into a prison.

Something tugged at his ankles and Greed stumbled backwards. Glancing down, he swiped at the snake-like chains sprouting from the room’s center. Again, he tore at the shadowed manacles, but again and again they returned to cling about his limbs.

“Fuck!” His movements became frantic. Panic grappled at his mind as more chains wound their way towards him. Even his armoured claws couldn’t fight against the force intent on imprisoning him.

All around him the walls edged closer, tighter, as the cracks of light closed away one by one.

“No,” bellowed Greed, straining against his bindings to the last slither of light. He would not be shackled again, not locked away, forgotten in the dark. 

To hell with Father, never again!

A chain snapped across his chest, and Greed gaped as more crossed over his torso. Every muscle in his body burned as the homunculus struggled, but with each second another found its mark. There were too many. 

The metal slid around him and tightened, until Greed was completely bound to the floor. His eyes darted up as the last shred of light disappear.

A hollowed thump echoed across the tomb. The transmutation had been completed, burying him in sheer darkness.


	6. Hendricks

Her thin legs trembled from the pain; like battery acid pumped through her muscles instead of blood and fire burnt in her lungs. Hendricks bit at her dry, chapped lips and staggered on. They had run the entire night. Roa had grunted that hijacking a car would draw too much attention to their rag tag group, but she thought it might have been worth the risk.

Still, Roa had insisted; it seemed like the old man had some kind of plan in mind. All Hendricks knew was that they were headed to the eastern side of town. 

They kept off the main roads, ducking down side streets whenever possible. Roa had even led them through a drain once Martel had read that it led under a well lit plaza. The older girl's sensitivity allowed them fair warning of any approaching vehicles.

Crickets chirped across the quiet night; her own breath seemed impossibly loud. Her heart stuttered at every scuffed footfall; surely someone would look out a window and call it in? They looked like vagabonds, after all.

Ahead, Roa paused before an underpass, shifting as he changed his grip on her brother. Dolcetto’s pale face lolled back, slack jawed like a broken puppet; he hadn’t woken at all. Hendricks’ knuckles whitened as she scrubbed at her face.

Bright lights shone just as Hendricks felt a hand on her arm, and was yanked behind a stoop. She hissed at Martel’s tight expression, who shook her head and pushed her head down. The rumble of an engine came closer until it paused. Hendricks bit down a sharp gasp of terror as the squeak of a window was wound down was followed by an enquiring voice.

“No, he’s fine,” she heard Roa laugh, and it seemed too strained to be natural. “Lad had too much to drink. ‘Sides, he weighs no more than a feather to a guy like me.”

The response was muted by the engine, which eventually roared to life and passed on. Beside her, Martel sighed heavily, dark lashes against her cheek. Hendricks pushed away from her to stumble towards Roa.

“What happened?” she asked, feverish and anxious. The big man snorted as shook his head. 

“Nothing. Let’s get away though,” Roa grunted. Martel’s quiet steps came behind her, and the ox man blinked slowly as his gaze jumped between the two of them.

“We’re almost there,” he said, almost gently, before trundling into the underpass.

Movement shifted through the air as Martel pressed her fingers against her forearm; the older girl wasn’t made for the dark like Hendricks.

“Was this a mistake?” Martel’s voice was hoarse and hardly audible. Hendricks shrugged in response, but she knew what her friend meant. Their small group had broken off from the the main pack some time ago. Rakia had invited them to run with her, and Hendricks had seen the alpha’s calculated glance toward Dolcetto. But Roa had made his desire clear, and no one else was strong enough to shoulder her brother on their own.

In away, it was better; despite the safety of the pack, the alpha and her dogs provided a larger, louder target for the military that hunted them.

“Hurry up,” Roa called behind him, and the two girls hurried after him.

The underpass was not long, and opened them to a neighbourhood that was markedly shabbier than those they had run through. Hendricks studied their guide through the gloom; the ox had paused at a crossroads, shaking his large head as his shoulders bunched.

Lost? Hendricks wondered. Martel’s grip tightened at Roa’s hesitation, and Hendricks patted her friend’s hand absently as she frowned. Perhaps they should have headed south with the pack?

The old soldier seemed to make up his mind, forging ahead beneath the tinny street lamps. Hendricks huffed wearily before tugging on her friend to follow.

“Here,” Roa stated without preamble after numerous twists and turns. The block they had paused at was worn, the way a river-stone was worn down by the buffeting current.

“Nice digs,” Hendricks muttered. “You know someone there?”

“My wife.”

Hendricks bit her tongue. Martel snorted and pinched her elbow.

“Can we get in?” Asked the her gray-eyed friend.

“Not through the front door," answered Roa, shifting awkwardly where he stood. "We’ll go up the fire escape.”

Still, he dithered. It was unsettling; the old soldier had seemed so sure of his way until now.

“Worried your missus has moved on?” Hendricks asked snidely.

A sharp, shallow breath whistled through his teeth, and she was satisfied to see a muscle in his jaw clench. After a moment of grim contemplation, Roa looked up and addressed them.

“Yeah.” The admission sounded like a rockfall.

“Then why even bring us here?” Hendricks hissed, gaze already darting about the surrounding street for an alternative route.

“We’re not going to know unless we try,” sighed Martel. “Besides, where else are we going to go?”

Hendricks felt her lip curl, but said nothing.

The clamber up four flights of stairs was almost as bad as dodging street-cars in the night. Every footfall, every groan felt like ruckus that would surely draw out surly, wary residents from their pretty little lives. Roa’s footsteps were heavy and clumsy, and Hendricks winced at every one of them. How to explain away four roughed up strangers lurking in the fire-escape at this god-awful hour?

Her heart was beating too fast, she knew. Everything ached. Her breath was coming too quick.

With Dolcetto over his shoulder Roa slowly emerged onto the last level of the fire escape. Shuffling, the two girls crowded behind, waiting. The old man’s hands trembled as he broke the doorknob to let them enter. Hendricks watched, sharp-eyed, as Roa’s chest heaved and his nostrils flared. 

“C’mon,” he muttered, letting the girls file through first before closing the door behind them. “Number sixteen.”

The hallway smelt musty and the carpets worn, and Hendricks could not decide if she were relieved or nervous to be out of the open. 

“No-one’s up,” Martle whispered, cold nose bumping into her cheek. Hendricks nodded, eyes tracing every door they passed.

“Here,” she said at last, stopping in front of a small, cream door. The brass numbers were dull in the dark, and painted was chipped around the edges. “Should I knock?”

“No,” Roa replied, pushing to the front. Inclining his head, the old soldier shrugged her brother off his shoulder. Her breath caught as Hendricks darted forward to catch him, arms protesting to bear his full weight.

Hendrick’s looked down at the pale, slack face of Dolcetto, lashes fanning the sickly shadows under his eyes. A hot, bitter bile rose slick in her throat, and she clutched her brother tighter.

Jaw tight, Hendricks looked up at the hulking form of Roa. Her tongue was to heavy to form the words of fear and gratitude she suddenly wanted to say. Mouth a grim line, he patted her shoulder before turning to the door. Hendricks could feel Roa’s large mass trembling through the floor. 

His knock was softer than she’d thought, a rapid tap of rhythm, and she worried that whoever was in would not even wake to hear it.

What if the old lady screamed? What if she’d moved? Hendricks’ skin felt tight and tense, and by Martel’s stiff posture she knew the other girl worried the same.

After a moment, Roa knocked again.

A quiet shuffle from deep behind the door made her ears twitch. Hendricks ground her teeth together as Roa knocked again, more frantic. The walls must be thin, for her to hear so well.

Slow footsteps made their way down a hall towards the front door. Hendricks heard the faintest thud, a hand against the door and an uneasy grumble. The peep-hole glinted ominously; she hated being surveyed by strangers.

If only she could breathe.

There was a very long pause after that. Roa was practically shaking and Martel had slid onto the balls of her feet, a combat stance. Dolcetto felt so heavy in her arms, like an anchor, when all Hendricks wanted to do was run. Her fingers dug into his skin; and blindly she hoped he could feel them.

What sane person would open the door for four strangers at the crack of dawn?

And yet, the heavy clunk of a pushed bolt and turning key seemed to roar at her ears. Some unnamable feeling flooded her veins as the low creak of an open door cut through the silence.

“My God,” the voice was soft and breathy, and Roa staggered back as if he’d been shot. A freckled, lined face peered out from the open door, grey-streaked hair tumbling over one shoulder in a messy braid.

“Jenny, love,” the old man rumbled, so pained it almost hurt to listen. Hendricks held her brother closer, ignored the stinging in her legs.

A boney hand gripped the door, and wide-eyed the woman gaped another confession to God.

“May we come in?” Roa asked, when still she said nothing. That seemed to break the impossible spell, and the woman blinked as she registered Martel, Hendricks and Dolcetto.

“Oh,” she murmured, swaying slightly. “Oh. Just-yes. Yes.”

Roa stepped back, letting Martel enter first before scooping up Dolcetto once again. Hendricks’ legs were numb from where she’d sat cradling him, stumbling as she followed Roa in.

They entered the small living room where the old man eased her brother onto a lumpy, floral couch. He looked so small, and Hendricks’ breath hitched as she darted to his side. Tried not to think of the laboratory ans the unspeakable things they had endured. Martel hovered beside a window, keeping behind the wall as she peeked through curtains. Pushing aside his messy locks from his forehead, Hendricks frowned at the cold clamminess of Dolcettos’ skin.

“Is...is this real?”

At the shaky sentence, all three conscious Chimera snapped their heads towards the middle-aged woman standing in the centre of the cramped room. She looked so normal, in her blue nightgown with hands clasped to her chest. It was absurd, Hendricks wanted to laugh. Or scream.

“Jenny,” Roa stood again, one large hand out stretched. They had been running all night, Hendricks’ didn’t know how the old ox could muster the gentleness and patience. “It is. It’s me.”

“They said you were dead,” the woman said, wet trails running down her cheeks. “There was a funeral and everything.”

“They lied,” rumbled Roa, voice cracked and sharp like glass. “They took me away and I couldn’t come home.”

In the corner of her vision, she saw Martel fold her arms and look away to studiously study the quaint landscape hanging on the wall. She could hear Roa’s wife gasping for breath, the twist of her fingers in her shawl, measured them against the shallowness of her brother’s.

“I thought you were dead,” whispered the woman, Jenny, head shaking in disbelief. She stepped forward, fingers outstretched as they reached for Roa. “My love, how-oh!”

It took only a moment for their hands to collide, for something to snap that sent them into one another's arms. Hendricks watched stoically as the woman wept into the old man’s chest, as he in turn kissed her hair.

“It doesn’t matter,” he was whispering, big arms wrapped around her tiny frame. “I’m here.”

The reunited couple continued to murmur half strung sentences only meant for each other. Hendricks could practically hear Martel’s unease in bearing witness to so private a moment. For herself, Hendricks could only be glad that there was roof over their heads and no one currently chasing them.

Shifting on the couch, Hendricks eased her brother’s head onto her lap and again stroked his brow. Not so much of a flutter from beneath his eyelids came in response, and her chest seemed too hot and tight in one brief fierce moment.

Grabbing Dolcetto’s shoulders, she squeezed tightly. Whether to wake him or reassure herself, Hendricks could not say.

“What ever they did to you,” she said quietly, head bent over his prone form. “You can get through it. I know you can.” 

Dawn’s creeping fingers stole through the heavy curtains and into the small, crowded lounge. Hendricks did not think they would be able to linger here long.

Dolcetto would be alright, though. They would find a way to get through this. They had to be.


	7. Hendricks

Roa slammed the tattered book on the table. It was enough to send her heart leaping, and Hendricks swore as her knees hit the underside of the table from her reflex to flee.

“Are you completely stupid or just plain selfish?” Roared the ox-man, as she blinked at the book under his meaty hand. A small tendril of guilt curled in her gut at the wide eyed worry behind the mask of Roa’s anger.

“What would happened if you were caught?” The old man seethed, face hard as he jabbed a calloused finger at the stolen book. “Stealing alchemy texts, of all things?”

“How else am I meant to learn it?” Hendricks asked sourly. It was alright for the others; they could pass for human, but not her. The horizontal slits in her eyes were bloody weird and therefore she was mostly stuck hiding out at the makeshift home lest someone take note and tattle. “Besides, it’s not like old Schrieber will notice.”

The lines of his frown deepened even as Roa leant back, disappointment drawing out his pained expression. It almost made her regret the selfish theft.

And it had been selfish, even if not much of a risk. She’d been perfectly crafted for stealth and stealing; Hendricks’ sight, hearing and swiftness outclassed a human’s almost tenfold.

“Alchemy,” Roa scoffed, but a glint in his gaze spoke of fear. “After all we went through, and you want to meddle in that black art?”

“I want to understand it,” she retorted, still rigid in her chair. Her ears twitched as Jean’s tell-tale bustle at the kitchen door marked her approach.

Roa lowered his head and rubbed his thick hands over his brow. 

“Hendricks,” he implored, shoulders dipped in defeat. “This will end badly. For all of us.”

“What did she take?” Jean piped in, arms laden with a basket full of eggs as she pushed into the kitchen. Hendricks resisted the urge to scowl at the older woman’s distinct lack of surprise.

“Some damn alchemy book,” Roa grumbled back. His wife sighed, resting a palm on the big Chimera’s arm. Folding her arms, Hendricks pursed her lips together and studied the bunches of hanging lavender and thyme.

“Well,” Jean cast a stern look her way as she began unloading the fresh collected eggs. “That was undeniably a very foolish thing to do.”

“If she’d been caught-” Roa started, and she didn’t need to look at the old man to know the pained grimace that scrawled across his brow.

“But she wasn’t,” reasoned Jean. Hendricks blinked in surprised at the crooked smile the woman kept from her husband. “It can’t be helped now. Taking it back would be asking for trouble.”

A fierce ache squeezed Hendricks chest as Jean pushed a braid over one shoulder and offered her a conspiratorial wink. What kind of woman packed her bags at the drop of a hat and absconded with her supposedly dead husband and three ragged teens? Yet Jean had barely heard their story before she’d shoved food and valuables into a floral trunk order Roa to find them a car.

The Fifth Laboratory had torn any chance of a normal upbringing for her, Dolcetto and the others. So many hadn’t even made it. Hendricks looked at Jean and thought of the strict curfews, muddled schooling, and demands they remove their shoes before tramping all over the house, and thought maybe this was pretty close.

Roa sat heavily down at the other side of the table, head in his hands as Jean ran a boney hand through his gray hair.

“Alchemy is dangerous, Hendricks,” rumbled the ox-man. When he looked up, his eyes were dark and shadowed. “In Ishval, it made men into monsters.”

“That’s not a concept I’m a stranger to,” snapped Hendricks, gesturing jaggedly to her eyes. “I’m not some naive child, I know what it can do!”

“Then you know why I’m so worried ‘bout you practising it!”

“Enough,” stated Jean, and she did not need to shout for both the Chimera to listen to her. “I’m certain Hendricks will be careful.”

“But Jenny-” started Roa; the personal appellation only ever fell from his tongue when he was worried.

“But, that roof needs fixing, and Hendricks, the cabbages need weeding.” It was hard not to pout, but Jean waved her off and slid an arm around her husband. Hendricks huffed, and stormed half-heartedly out the room. 

Her brother was seated on the ground, back to the stone base of the make-shift barn as Hendricks paused to shove on her heavy boots. An old, wooden Jacob’s Ladder toy was flicked from hand to hand, and she did not need his sly side gaze to know he’d been listening.

“Told you he’d find out,” Dolcetto said nonchalantly as Hendricks pulled at her laces.

“So?” Hendricks huffed as she fought the urge to retrieve a cigarette from her secret stash. “At least I have it.”

Dolcetto shrugged. Standing, she tugged on her brother’s sleeve.

“Yo, don’t involve me,” Dolcetto protested, squirming to get free.

“Practice with your katana outside or something. At least keep me company.” Hendricks paused, wrinkling her nose as she looked down at him. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“There wasn’t any,” replied the youth with a scowl, fiddling with the rolled cuffs of his shirt. “The military seized the ore we were meant to receive.”

Hendricks spat at that, hoisting the weed-basket over her shoulder before she stalked away. 

The damned military, messing everything up again. Bad enough that it fueled a pointless war on a desperate people. Thousands of refugees now roamed the country for sanctuary. Industrial hubs such as Rush Valley drew in the dispossessed like moths to a flame. The Chimera had been no different; at least it was easy to get hide in a sea of lost faces.

Breathing through her nose, Hendricks struggled to bury the bubbling bitterness that welled in her chest. It didn’t happen often, but sometimes a burning rage licked at her insides and all she wanted to do was tear through the arseholes who’d killed and murdered and ruined so much.

The afternoon sun beat down over her pale skin, and the girl paused to soak it up. So much of her childhood had been in closed rooms and shadowed halls; even after three years the open air was still something of a marvel. 

Heck, having their own home was a marvel. No matter that it was the patched up corner of a long abandoned barn. The original occupants had fled when the old farm house burnt down, so the barn was theirs for the taking. Canvas was strung up outside and recycled wood and brick addressed the holes in the walls, it was unbearably drafty in the winter. Hendricks eyed the barn and laughed at her own sentimentality, listening to the soft croon of chickens and the hammer of Roa’s repair work. 

“You know, Roa’s not going to just let it slide,” Dolcetto said as he trotted up beside her. Clad only in a singlet and pants, with a pair of wooden bokken slung over his shoulders, he made a comical sight.

Grunting, Hendricks trudged to the cabbage patch and hopped over the fence. Roa was welcome to try and stop her. Rolling the cuffs up on her shorts, and sliding on thick gloves, she bent down to wrestle with the weeds. Dolcetto made the effort to go through the perfectly serviceable gate.

“He’s just afraid,” she said, at his approach.

“I kinda get why,” grunted her brother, kicking at the wet earth behind her. “I heard him talking to Jean-”

“Overheard?” Hendricks raised her brow as she looked back at him.

Dolcetto shrugged at her frown. Honestly, Roa was worried about her getting caught? For all that he passed for human, her brother was remarkably careless when it came to keeping a low profile. It wouldn’t take much for him to let slip something he shouldn’t know and for someone to wonder how on earth he’d heard it.

“It just happens,” Dolcetto explained at her persistent scowl. “Anyway, apparently in Ishval there was a State Alchemist who could rip apart every atom in the human body.”

There was thread of morbid wonder in his voice.

Knees deep in dirt and cabbages, Hendricks snorted. She got it, she really did. It wasn’t hard to miss Roa’s ill disguised fear. Unsubtle chiding at flared tempers, strict rules to wrestling and sparring and heavy handed morality tales about compassion and empathy. The Fifth Laboratory had been forging ruthless weapons for the Military to wield at whim, and there was nothing Roa feared more than that objective being fulfilled.

Wiping her brow with the back of her hand, she tried not to think of the long scar along her scalp and the hard lessons it had inspired.

Only some strange twist of fate, shrouded around a sharp toothed stranger with armoured skin, had turned Hendricks and the other young Chimera down a different path.

Glancing back her brother, Hendricks was unsurprised to see he’d hopped back over the fence and was going through the motions of a sword dance. Her own thin hands tugged a particularly stubborn weed and tried not to think of the reasons Dolcetto clung to his weapons training the way he did. 

It was the same reason she’d snuck into an old, bloated scholar’s library to steal a book on alchemy.

Some time later, when the sun had sunk to the horizon and her back and arms were aching and sore, Hendricks paused as the soft scuffles of Dolcetto’s movement stopped. Wincing at the pang in her lower back as she sat up, she looked to the dirt road where his long nose was pointed. Ruefully, Hendricks wondered if the cigarettes were dulling her normally sharp senses. 

Ash, liquor, and detergent was in the slight breeze, and Martel’s hunched figure stalked up the path

Dolcetto returned to his sword dance. 

Hendricks unslung the weed basket from her back, shirt sticky with sweat. Feeling the beginning of sunburn on her nose, the gangly girl dragged the basket over to the fence, leaning over it as her friend made to walk past.

“Rough day?” 

The cross bent of Martel’s full lips was hard to misinterpret.

“It’s a dirty bar in a dirty mining town,” snapped the tall blond, angry eyes avoiding her own. “Every day’s a rough day.”

“Looks like this one was rougher than most,” Hendricks said idly, but her jaw clenched at Martel’s hostility.

It wasn’t as if her friend couldn’t handle herself; despite fudging her age to work at one of Rush Valley’s many taverns, there was little there that could give Martel trouble. 

Shrugging under her over-sized jacket, Martel cast a filthy look as she pushed on past. Granted, the bar rarely inspired a good mood, but Hendricks had to wonder what kind of ass-hattery had inspired today’s seemingly vicious ire.

Dolcetto bounded to her side

“What gives?” He called after Martel’s retreating slouch. Dolcetto had not quite mastered tact. 

“Nothing that concerns you, puppy,” Martel called back, tone snide and ill-fitted. “Go play knight or something.”

Her brother visibly wilted, and Hendricks felt her own temper flare before biting it down.

“Wonder what got to her,” she murmured to Dolcetto instead, gaze narrow as Martel slammed the door to the barn. Perhaps Jean would wrestle a civil conversation out of her. If Hendricks was bothered that she was no longer Martel’s sole secret-keeper, well, there was no point dwelling on it.

By the time she turned to her brother to comfort him, Dolcetto had cast off the malaise of Martel’s brusqueness enough to nudge at his sister's side.

“Take me on before it gets dark?”

She rolled her eyes, but nodded.

Dolcetta bounded off to pick up the spare bokken, ever keen to whet his edge against an opponent. Mores a pity she was his usual sparring partner; for all her quickness, combat had never been Hendricks’ forte.

Wordlessly her brother tossed the wooden sword her way, and Hendricks caught it without a pause. Crinkling her brow, she rolled the solid weight of the bokken in her palms. It felt heavy and clumsy, a far cry from the fluid ease with which Dolcetto wielded his. 

Her brother dipped his head at her, and they both rose their swords to a ready position; chin height and slightly left to the body’s centre with feet a shoulder width apart. Dolcetto’s pale eyes glittered as he let loose an indulgent grin.

“Begin,” he said.

They’d all received combat training, deep in the bowels of the Fifth Laboratory. For the good of Amestries, they’d told the young Chimera. She imagined her brother would have been a good, mindless soldier for the Military, if they’d gotten their way. 

For her part, Hendricks had been more suited to a dart-in-quick to-stab-throat type style. Less likely for anyone to take issue with her eyes, either. It left her at something of a disadvantage in an actual fight, but getting the jump on a guy? Child’s play.

“Ow!” Hendricks hissed, hands throbbing and empty from the bokken Dolcetto had just relieved her of.

“Pay attention,” was the only reply she got, and Hendricks tried not to pout as she retrieved the weapon.

Resetting into ready position, she waited for her brother to advance. Only, Hendricks soon found herself retreating at the flurry of slices Dolcetto sent her way.

Deflecting a long blow to her torso, Hendricks darted forward to cut under Dolcetto’s sword arc with some sense of satisfaction. Only, he slammed his hands down, catching the blade of her bokken with his handle to drive it into the dirt. 

Already off balance, Hendricks wildly threw herself back to avoid the follow up strike, sword tumbling from her hand as her rear hit the ground hard. The wooden blade skidded across the crook of her neck as her brother’s eyes glittered.

“Ugh.” Hendricks huffed at the blow’s deep ache.

Dolcetto blinked, and smiled. Withdrawing his weapon, he held out a hand.

“You ok?” 

Hendricks groaned and rubbed at her neck.

“Only thing wounded is my pride,” she grumbled, leaning excessively into her brother as he helped her stand. “Some shiny armour from that armoured guy would be nice.”

An impenetrable shield over your entire body; Hendricks could think of worse things. 

“Yeah,” barked Dolcetto. “You could cover up that mess you call a face.”

Quick as a flash, Hendricks tightened her grip on her brother’s hands and drove a knee into his belly. Wheezing and doubled over, Dolcetto chuckled weakly.

“Can we call it even?”

“Can I get a few kicks in?” A voice called.

Both Chimera looked up to see Martel strolling toward them. She’d changed from her drab tavern garb to her usual slacks and top, and the rigid line of her shoulder had loosened. 

“All yours,” Hendricks shrugged, skipping back as Dolcetto clambered to his feet and shook himself. He rolled his eyes at her, but already the thought of another tussle had lit his expression.

“Well, I won’t go easy on you, Pup.” The corner of Martel’s mouth lifted, and she cracked her knuckles.

Dolcetto grinned, canine’s long and sharp as he threw back his head.

“Don’t need you to,” he countered, slowly circling his new opponent.

Hendricks shook her head at their posturing; she suspected they enjoyed the trash talk as much as the fight. Locking her fingers together, Hendricks stretched out her arms and winced at the pull of tense muscles in her arms and back. Her neck still throbbed, and she tried not to contemplate how she would far in actual combat.

Twisting to look over their make-shift farm, lit orange by the fast fading sun, Hendricks tried not to grimace to see Roa watching them. Leaning against side the barn door, the old soldier had crossed his arms as he quietly watched the three of them wrestle in the yard.

So what if he was afraid of alchemy? Hendricks wasn’t. Refused to be, and she’d be damned if it wasn’t something she’d master to turn against those who’d sought to shackle them. 

For all his protective worry, Roa knew what she knew. What all the Chimera feared.

They’d made a home and a life here. How long until someone tried to take it from them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to get some feedback guys! both ninaunn and I are working hard on this one, we have some great ideas (well we think so) we want to explore with these characters. More Greed soon!


	8. Greed

Greed’s nails eagerly scratched his palms with silent frustration, though his steps were long and languid as he sauntered down the dim corridor. Two passwords, three guarded doors and an excessive amount of muscle were in between him and a needed and much desired drink. 

“C’mon,” the scruffy human next to him beamed. “It ain’t much further.”

To punctuate his enthusiasm, Kaleb bounded down the rickety staircase. It creaked in complaint at his eagerness, and Greed hid a sniff as he followed his fellow with more caution. Kaleb had vocally vouched for the speakeasy all evening, Greed was not so easily convinced. Especially when meeting a new potential associate. 

She’d better be worth the hassle, Greed pondered as he ducked under a low door frame. They’d traveled to the arse side of South City to reach the worn down store-front that masked the now illegal drinking den. Smoke curled through the passage further down their descent. Dull crescents of discomfort itched his palms, and Greed’s throat felt parched.

“Watch your hea-”

Shrill pain ran through Greed’s skull; he’d missed the low ceiling. Cursing at Kaleb’s sheepish shrug, the Homunculi slouched his tall build over to prevent further headaches. 

At last came the final door, bolted heavily and guarded by your typical thick-necked tough. Greed bounced on the balls of his feet as Kaleb smiled and tipped the man a few cigarettes, who seemed suitably persuaded and let them through.

The heavy door creaked open, and smoke parted to reveal a wide, shallow basement. In the corner, a lone musician belted out a wicked speil on his fiddle as poor factory workers slurred along with mournful lyrics dreaming of home. What room was left was full of huddled figures crowded around too small tables, lit only by the hearth and candles that lined the walls in neat rows. The ventilation was awful, the lighting was terrible, and the fire made it suffocatingly warm, but at least there was liquor. 

It had been too damn long.

Greed eyed the bar with feverish intent, whilst his companion scanned the jam packed crowd.

“There’s a few bird’s here,” Kaleb huffed. “Not sure which one’s ours.”

“I’m beginning to harbour doubts to your judgement,” Greed drawled, arching one thin brow at Kaleb’s responding scoff. Certainly, the type of professional they needed for their venture was rarely found haunting filthy, ramshackle dens such as this. 

“You’re such a snob,” the human gave a low chuckle. “All kinds of people end up in this joint. She’ll be here.”

Greed only grunted, and shrugged under his frock-coat. For all Kaleb’s confidence, they’d be lucky to locate a table, let alone a single person.

“Tell you what,” Kaleb said, brown eyes genial despite Greed’s scowl. “First round’s on me. I’ll scope the bar for her, and you wrangle us table?”

The suggestion almost rankled as an order, and Greed resisted a rebuttal as to who was in charge. Kaleb was personable enough and he’d offered to pay. Father had been uncharacteristically fiscal these past years, and it galled him too much to ask.

“What’s your poison?” The tall man gave him a slight nudge. “The usual?”

“Gin,” Greed confirmed over his shoulder with little hesitation. Glaring about the close and crowded room, the homunculi scowled as he found a vacant spot at the rear of the room and stalked away to it. 

Another patron almost seized the table before Greed reached it, but he’d long perfected the art of intimidating humans. They were canny like that, in the slow, stupid way that a deer could smell a wolf on the wind.

He should have asked for a double, Greed lamented, letting his shield fade from his fingers as the human scurried away. No wait, triple. That damned Philosopher’s Stone burnt up alcohol far too fast to ever have any fun. A hundred years, and Greed had only just managed to hold it back enough to allow him mild inebriation.

He hands idly scratched away at the wooden table, Greed sighed to see Kaleb still waiting at the bar. This plan of Father’s was a serious loyalty tester. The prohibition on liquor was a crushing blow to his social scene and schemes. Only a few months into the wildly unpopular morality legislation, and every tavern and public house in the city had been boarded up or converted into more wholesome establishments.

It was disgusting.

“Room for one more?”

Greed glanced up from his ruminating at the low, husky voice, ready to scare off whatever inconsequent desired his attention.

He immediately regretted his grimace. The woman stared down at Greed with pale, quizzical eyes, a thick halo of auburn curls clustered around a pointed face. She leaned on the table with one gloved hand. 

A sly smile stretched out from his frown. Her pinstripe walking suit was threadbare and clumsily repaired in places, but well cut enough to show off a shapely figure. She raised her brows at his obvious and appreciative assessment. 

“Well?” 

“For you, ma’am,” Greed drawled, sweeping out a hand in gallant gesture to the spare chair. 

Her small, plump mouth smiled it’s thanks, and she primly gathered her skirts and set herself upon the seat. 

“My company hasn’t arrived yet,” said the woman with a dry regret as her eyes flickered about the surrounding room. “A lady does so hate to be left standing alone in company such as this.”

“Their loss is my gain,” Greed answered smoothly. The quality of her cloth did not match a lady, but the crisp cut of her words spoke of an education of sorts. Not that he would be so rude as to point that out; women warranted courtesy no matter their class, especially when they were as fine as his new companion. “I’m only sorry not to have something more than a seat to offer you.” 

She waved a hand, and that pale grey gaze peeked through thick curls. 

“However will you manage to repay the pleasure of my company?” Her voice was a deep purr, and Greed felt his mouth dry at the tilt of her head.

“My witty conversation?”

“I suppose it will do.”

In truth, there was little else he could offer. Anything of substance Greed had to say would leave any human with impression that he was a madman, and the Homunculi certainly did not want to chase off the lovely creature before him. 

She had a certain...spark that Greed desired. Coveted. Kaleb had it too, which was why he had allowed the man to befriend him.

“I shall endeavour to make it so,” quipped Greed, not hiding the smirk that crossed his face. The woman hummed in amusement, resting her chin on one hand.

Another clever comment was on the tip of his tongue when Greef noticed that her pale gaze had shifted over his shoulder. A shuffled step and good-natured excuses approached, and Greed rolled his eyes and leant back to allow the woman full view of the man now beside him. 

With an eternally charismatic grin, Kaleb plonked down on the spare chair and placed three drinks down onto the table with marginal spillage. 

“Oh, that is merry,” Kaleb exclaimed. “What were the chances of you two meeting without me to introduce you?” 

He slid a glass of ruddy sherry towards the woman, a gin to Greed and raised his own pint to the both of them.

“You’re too kind,” cooed the woman, but her tone was lighter now, and more genuine. “Such a relief to see that chivalry lives on in the modern gentleman.”

Greed blinked, marvelling at how obviously false their previous exchange sounded compared to the warm cadence she directed toward Kaleb. It galled him even as it rose her in his esteem; not often did humans managed to pull one over Greed the Avaricious.

“Only in the wicked,” Kaleb replied, sending her a boyish wink. Her mouth curled behind the raised glass.

A sour, possessive ball roiled in his chest, and Greed batted it down and let it stew.

At least he had gin.

“This is my associate, Mr Greed,” continued the human, tipping his head toward Greed. “The other part of this venture.”

Greed leaned back and tipped up his chin, slightly satisfied at the pique of curiosity in her expression. 

“My pleasure,” he drawled, letting his gaze sharpen as she reassessed his manner and make up. “Though you still have the advantage of me.”

“Ms Delphine Roy,” she replied, and let her careful gaze slide back to Kaleb. “At your service.”

“And we are at yours, or so we hope.” The ruddy man clasped his large hands together. “More so now that the Ash Mines Act has gone through.”

“God damn every soul who cast that vote,” Ms Roy spat, and Greed was taken by her sudden vehemence. “As if finding honest work as a woman was not hard enough.”

Kaleb shook his head and tsked in sympathy and Greed filed away the sentiment for later appraisal. Likely Father would want to hear how his latest machinations were felt on the streets of Amestris; each move a coil on the spring that would soon erupt to violence.

“Those Central City bastards tell a thumper to themselves that it’s to protect the meek and weak of society.” A thread of genuine frustration crossed Kaleb’s expression, Greed diverted his attention, It was rare for his companion to lose composure. “And all the while tighten the shackles of the menfolk to keep them from demanding better.” 

Delphine Roy, it seemed, saw it too. And Greed’s amusement. She paused for a moment to take the two of them in, before offering Kaleb a wry smile.

“A third of the workforce at Grund Ore Mine was women and children,” the woman sighed and swirled her sherry. “How many families will starve now because of this?”

“Do you include yourself in that pitiful lot?” Greed inquired, mostly managing to mask the sneer that threatened to rise. 

She turned towards him, as Kaleb threw a frustrated glare from her side. Heavy lidded eyes studied Greed, and he almost purred under the attention. The world, after all, belonged to him; it wouldn’t do for any to pass him up as a non-entity.

“I don’t intend to starve,” Delphine answered cooly. “I’m done bleeding out for every cenz they deign to throw my way.” 

“Well, we might have a use for you,” conceded Greed, affecting disinterest and very satisfied to see a crack in her composure. He would not be disregarded. “That is-”

“What my friend means to say,” Kaleb cut in keenly. “You have a particular skill-set that we happen to be in great need of.”

The last three words were stressed, but not for her. The look Kaleb quickly shot him could not be mistaken. Greed took another sip of gin.

“Forgive me,” he pronounced slowly and with very little meaning. “We’ve encountered a number of charlatans and fleecers, all claiming feats of wonder that never seem to be repeated in person.”

Her small, haughty sniff matched the straight line of her shoulders, and her auburn hair bobbed as she turned away from him.

“I’ll not claim wonders,” she said primly. “But what small alchemical skill I have, I do well. Need a rock-face filtered to a fine dust or compacted to rammed earth, and you’ll find none better.”

Greed shifted in his seat and drummed his fingers on the sticky table top. The pride in her voice was obvious, and her conviction, and he admired the fierce cunning in her pointed, sharp face.

Between them, Kaleb put on his most charming smile and leaned over his drink.

“Well, that’s sounds very grand,” he enthused, and a sly, conspiratorial gleam entered his brown eyes. Greed sighed at the theatricality of it. “What do you know about ethanol fermentation?”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

A sharp pain drove through his forehead to pierce his skull. Whatever blissful oblivion Greed’s consciousness had fled to could not hide him any longer. Behind closed lids, Crimson red bled into Greed’s vision and the sound of waves crashed through every sense known to him.

He was alone.

And yet, with a terrible foreboding, he knew that he was not.

Just a little longer, some part of him begged. Just remember-

Nausea clawed at his belly as a fierce cold dollop curled down over his head. Greed flexed his fingers, attempted to press his knuckles against his forehead only to find them bound. A bright streak of light pierced the darkness and his eyes shot open.

No, no, not now. 

“My son.” The voice rumbled like gravestones over gravel. “I have all the patience in the world for you.” 

The nausea turned to dread. 

Father's voice echoed off the walls of his prison like a cathedral. Greed winced, and refused to look up. He would not give that old bastard the satisfaction of his attention. A hollow sigh sounded, and a dusty, twisting sensation curled around Greed’s neck. Rolled up his head as another cold dollop of pain struck his head and dribbled over his eyes.

There was something he’d remembered, Greed thought sluggishly. Red flared where his eyes burned. Or had been trying to remember?

Liquid silver ran in rivers down the wall of his prison; it clogged his thoughts and dulled his senses. Greed tried to curse, but all that came from his poisoned throat was a gurgle.

There had been a thought...but he could not recall. All he could recall was the sweet bliss of oblivion.

Above him, a pillar of white stood stark against the gloom.

Ah. Greed had forgotten Father.

Odd, considering that his sire’s infrequent, annual visitations was the only means by which by Greed could keep track of his lengthy imprisonment. That, and the millions of souls that screamed and wailed his blighted presence. 

“How,” Greed coughed and licked his lips, “kind of you.”

“This droll, human wit is tiresome,” Father scolded, voice booming through his skull like a blacksmith’s hammer. “You should cease applying it to your speech.”

Snorting weakly, Greed mustered enough strength to spit at Father’s feet. Well, more like dribble.

The faintest hint of a sneer traced along the strong lines of Father’s face, bloodless eyes unmoving.

“Your continued defiance of my will is futile,” he intoned. “So I ask again; will you return to serve me?”

Another dollop of quicksilver crowned Greed’s head and spoiled his flesh. He blinked back the mercury from his burning eyes, and drew on that deep, endless hunger at the very centre of his avaricious core.

“In your dreams, old man,” Greed sneered, proud at least of his conviction. But the effort cost him, and the Homunculi slumped again to hang from his manacles.

A heavy, hard silence followed, and not a hair on Father stirred or rustled.

“Very well.” The corners of his mouth twitched. In one deliberate move, Father swept his robes imperiously aside to leave, taking with him what little light there was. 

Greed almost, almost called out to him. Did not want to be alone in the dark again, another lost, lonely soul enduring eternal silence in his mercury coated prison.

Almost.

Greed bit his tongue.

The silver slick walls closed up around the shadow of Father, and Greed was left alone in his oubliette for yet another long year.


	9. Martel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! yes this story is still being worked on, hope you're still enjoying it. x

The thing about working a tavern in a mining town the buck side of nowhere was that there was always business. Even when the mines closed for maintenance, or when work was scarce, people always seemed to have just enough money for alcohol. Tonight was no different. Martel’s front was cold and wet from beer spills and her lower back and shoulders hurt from the long shift. Each chore was a clockwork action; smiling at patrons, wiping down the bar, delivering glasses to be washed. 

The bar doors clattered loudly closed, and someone complained about the chill autumn air. It was predictable, as was each face that ambled in to hunch over the bar. Two years in Rush Valley had given Martel something of a familiarity with the look of the locals. 

It had taken a while to understand that casual banter was not, in fact, a sly attempt to make her slip up. Martel had lost count of the times she’d clenched her fists under the counter as some miner asked about her family, sure that agents from the Fifth Laboratory would jump out at any minute.

Her paranoia had faded, eventually. At times she almost enjoyed the work for its mundanity. Well meaning locals who remembered her name and slipped her tips felt what blessedly normal. 

But Martel was not a normal girl. A normal life would not last her long.

“Two more pints of the stout, love,” said a ruddy-faced man, beard bobbing with amiability. His friend elbowed his side. Martel nodded and made the sale, barely mustering enough energy for a smile.

Bar work was safe. Secure. The war in Ishval was an atrocity, but it did leave Amestris in a constant state of distraction. When it ended, how safe would her family be? 

“Busy night?” 

Martel looked up from the glass she’d been polishing, false cheer plastered on her face.

“Oh, not too bad,” she answered. Her razor green eyes narrowed at the young man leaning on the counter. The bare beginnings of a pencil moustache plagued his top lip and his shabby coat was at least two sizes too big. Thin, hooded eyes flickered about the tavern before meeting hers, and did not flinch.

Something curled in her gut. A slick, sour feeling that she had not felt in a long time. Martel swallowed and licked her dry lips.

“How can I help you?” Already her old...education was rising. Legs widening for a stronger stance, back straight.

“Martel, right?” He must have seen something in her expression, for he lay both gloved hands palm up on the counter-top. “I’m just here to talk.”

 

“If you’re not going to order anything,” Martel said loudly, taking a step away. “I have other people to serve.” 

“Wait-” He leant over the counter and caught her sleeve.

Martel punched him. Hard.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled. Customers startled and looked up, surprised at the man staggering back with blood trickling from his nose. 

Good; if he tried anything more, the room would be on her side. 

Her heart rattled against her ribs, and it took everything in her not to leap over the bar to finish the job. She had to keep her cool, maintain her cover so that she could get out and warn Roa and the others and not let whatever mooks that were surely watching the scene get to them first. 

Because despite her hit, the man had not looked away. Did not seem surprised at her strength or her viciousness. Looked at her as if he knew her. Knew what she was. 

All these years and they’d thought themselves safe.

Should she just make a break for it? Dart into the back and out the kitchen window? Who knew what was waiting for her. Maybe even more chimera, leashed to the military like animals. How could she fight her own kind? 

But. 

But there was no sign on them; no tramping feet of troops on the street. Her jaw clenched.

“Martel,” the man still facing her called, one hand outstretched. “It’s alright. I’m with Rakia.”

It was then that she saw the tips of his gloves were torn. Rough claws protruded from his fingers, and as Martel fought for each panicked breath, she noted again how shabby and ungroomed he appeared.

Surely none of the military would be able to feign such dishevelment? 

“Everything alright?” Penrin, stolid old Penrin called over from the next set of taps. Martel froze. Her boss had seen her strike a few patrons during her employment. Never without cause. 

“I’m sorry,” exclaimed the Chimera masquerading as a human. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“Martel?” Perin called for confirmation.

After an uncertain pause, Martel made up her mind.

“Sure,” she answered. “He won’t cause anymore trouble.”

The man nodded. Their audience shrugged and shuffled away.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Martel hissed, slapping a hand on the counter to grab the one he’d left outstretched. “What if they’d seen-”

“If you didn’t want to make a scene then you shouldn’t have hit me,” he whispered back.

Martel sneered at him and turned his hand over, inspecting the torn gloves and the fingers that were now deceptively human.

“I thought you were military,” was her taut response.

“No,” affirmed the Chimera, staring intently at her face. “I was sent by Rakia. Do you remember-”

“I remember Rakia.”

Martel pressed her lips together and released his hand. The man clutched it to his chest, adjusting the shape of his ruined gloves.

They’d had no word of the pack leader and her motley mess of Chimera since their dramatic escape from the Fifth Laboratory. Roa had been content to lie low, live with what time he had left with his wife. Hendricks had kept an ear our, said that Martel should listen for rumours of monsters and demons, but the only monsters muttered about were the alchemists in Ishval.

Rakia had been smart. Strong. She’d taken charge once the opportunity had been made, and had not hesitated once during the dramatic escape.

Martel absent-mindedly wiped at the already clean counter.

“My name is Corden,” the man said, settling back to his seat with a casualness undercut by his bright eyes. Martel tossed him a towel to wipe his nose with. “Or Cor, for short.”

“How nice for you,” she retorted. “So what is it?” 

Cor titled his head, one sharp eyebrow raised.

“The message, you idiot.” Martel sucked her teeth, trying to muster patience. All her nerves still buzzed, still eager for action and all the affability in the world would not change that. She set her fists on her hips and scowled.

“Oh, that.” Cor drummed his fingers on the counter, looking long at her hostile expression and impatient posture.

“Do you know where the others are?”

The question made her jaw clench.

“No,” Martel responded, staying still. “We split up a while back.”

“Really?” The disbelief in his tone irked her.

“Really.”

“I heard you lived out of town with your family.” 

It was not a question, and so Martel did not respond to it. However, it turned a small part of her gut cold. How long had this Chimera been watching her, and how much did he already know? It sickened Martel to think how easily they might have been found out.

“The message is meant for all of you,” continued Cor. “But I could only find you. If you told me where the others are I could-”

“That's not going to happen,” Martel cut him off with a snap.

“Right.” Cor drawled.

He leaned further in, still cautious about being overheard. Supposedly him and his had also learned that caution was the better part of valour. That brought Martel some small comfort.

“Well,” the Chimera sucked his teeth. “She has work. For all of you, if you want it.”

“I already have a job,” Martel smiled wide enough to let her fangs show, raising both hands to showcase her glorified profession.

Cor snorted.

“This will pay much better,” he promised, paying no attention to her sarcasm. “But it will be dangerous.”

Martel blinked slowly, not dropping her grin an inch. The proposal was poorly delivered, and by all sense she should dismiss it entirely.

“How novel,” she said instead.

The Chimera shifted uncomfortably, razor eyes glancing away and back to hers.

“If I could speak to all of you-” he began testily.

“I might pass the message on,” Martel said, squaring her shoulder, “if I like the terms.”

Corden huffed, eyes crinkling just a little.

“We're going to rob a train,” he declared, pausing with his own sharp grin, “loaded with with the finest opium Xing has to offer.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Martel fought to lengthen the strap on her backpack. Corden - or Cor as he had later corrected - had said to pack light, and she'd snorted to tell him she knew that.

He'd said a lot more than that; enough to make her blood boil and her fingers itch. So much she was still reeling a little, but Martel Matter was sure.

Apparently, the rest of the Fifth Laboratory escapees had cut a chaotic and bloody escape from Central City. Likely their ruckus caused by Rakia and her dogs was what had allowed Martel and her family to slip so quietly and undisturbed into the night.

It sounded like the military had chased them halfway across the country. All the way to a small town called Dublith, somewhere south of Rush Valley.

Shucking the bag back over her shoulders, Martel squinted into the purple gloom of evening, listening to the quiet earth beneath her feet.

Her family had not approved of her decision to leave.

Roa had scolded her for being out so late and Jean had fussed over a meal. Martel had eaten it with relish and bickered with Dolcetto as Hendricks read a book in the corner.

Then, when the whole household was asleep, Martel rose and packed the necessities needed for a long trip. 

She had already written a note of farewell; it was as short and sweet as she could manage on a bar notepad. It lay in wait on the kitchen table.

I’ve left to travel and find others like me. I’ll be traveling towards Dublith, be in touch, love Martel.

It was right to keep the details spare, Martel thought as she trudged down the dusty track that edged the farm. They would only worry if she said she was off to chase a train heist with Rakia.

Roa would never leave Jean, and her illness had left her in no state to travel. Hendricks, for all her snark, craved the security they offered and Dolcetto would never leave his sister. 

Not like Martel; she needed a leader. Someone to teach her to be strong and unafraid.

So there was no point in giving them the details, Martel would write her family a letter when she got to Dublith to soothe whatever worries they had.

“Martel!”

Her heart lurched to hear Hendricks voice call out. The damn deer was lighter on her feet than she had any right to be.

Martel set her expression before turning to face her friend; she did not want this confrontation. Defiant and unashamed, Martel met Hendricks eyes, which were wide.

“You can’t leave” the Oryx Chimera blurted out, “not like this.” 

When Martel didn't respond she continued.

“Look, just come back home.” Hendricks’ hands fluttered in agitation. “Lets sort this out with Roa, do you even know where you’re going?”

“No,” Martel replied, trying to keep her voice stern and even. “I don’t-” 

Martel looked away to the soft lights of town in the distance. Her nails bit into her palms.

“I don't want to play human any more.” It was the best truth she had.

“What?” The girl blinked and stepped back, face shifting from confusion to anger. “Where is this coming from?”

Of course Hendricks didn't get it. Martel shook her head and ignored the growing lump in her throat.

“I’m going to find Rakia and the other Chimera,” she declared. “They have work. I can send money home to help Jean.” 

Hendricks thin brows bent together, mouth tight.

“You are full of bullshit, Martel,” she snapped, strange eyes flashing with real vehemence. “You’re leaving us all behind.”

A muscle in Martel’s jaw clenched, but she did not deny it. It would only make Hendricks angrier and at this point there was little point in trying to leave with pleasant platitudes. Against the earth she could feel the soft vibrations of footfalls.

Hendricks sharp eyes reflected the night sky as she drew up to her full height. For just a moment, she looked more predator than prey.

She felt the heavy form of Cor come to stand beside her. Saw how Hendricks’ face paled. 

“Everything ok?” Cor asked calmly. 

“Are you the moron responsible for this?” Hendricks stabbed an accusing finger at the dog Chimera.

“It doesn't matter who’s responsible,” Martel hissed; she desperately wanted this over and to be gone. 

Hendricks turned her incredulous stare her way.

“You don’t even know this guy!”

“I know that I don't want to waste my life pretending to be something I'm not!” Martel snapped. 

“So you're going to go for pretending to be, what?” Hendricks waved her hands in the air. “Some kind of vigilante.”

Sometimes, Martel was frightened by Hendricks’ uncanny perception.

Cor sighed, feet scraping against the dirt. 

“Enough,” he growled, albeit halfheartedly. “You've both said your piece. We need to go.”

Martel answered his querying look with a definite nod and pulled at the straps on her backpack.

Hendricks had stilled. Always reserved, always cautious and calculating, and yet, Martel had not seen white fury that radiated her friend's body before. For a moment, she was sure that Hendricks intended to attack Cor.

But the crickets called out in the night, and the moment passed. The girl leant back, normally doe-eyes expression torn with a sneer that was almost monstrous.

“You’re nothing but a reckless fool, Martel.” Her raw parting words sent a shiver down Martel’s skin. 

Hendricks took one step back, and another, still facing her friend before fading into the gloom.

A deep breath of air held captive escaped Martel’s lungs. Cor patted her back in understanding and started off. This choice was not an easy one, but it was hers to make. One day Hendricks would understand. They all would.

She hoped.


End file.
